


Stray Cat Strut

by WinJennster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Auras, Brief Sexual Content, Cas loves kitties, Cat Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Hates Witches, Dean uses a litterbox and is angry about it, Developing Castiel/Dean Winchester, Developing Relationship, Familiars, Frottage, Kitteh!Dean, M/M, Masturbation, Sam loves animals, Transfiguration, Witches, bunker!fic, casturbation, indeterminate time frame but post Michael possesion, not enough for explicit but it's there, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: Armond DuBois is definitely not the world’s greatest witch. He can, however, see souls and read auras. Armond believes he’d be incredibly powerful if he could just find a familiar--but there’s not an animal that’s been attracted to his power in his over two hundred years on Earth. He finds an incredibly gorgeous soul and decides to transform a human into the perfect familiar, which is how Dean Winchester finds himself a four legged feline.Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!





	1. What's New Pussycat?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MittenWraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first ever DCBB!! Art is embedded and thanks plus a link to the art post are in the notes on the last chapter. Enjoy!!

[](https://imgur.com/tBjglGN)

Beer. 

Beer was a gift and a boon to the emotionally repressed. Available in nearly every town in America, it was as easy to come by as corn in Omaha, steamed crabs in Baltimore, gumbo in New Orleans, or coffee in Seattle. Dean Winchester considered himself a connoisseur of beer, tasting microbrews in pretty much every state in the lower forty-eight. (Someday, he’d find a way to go to Alaska and Hawaii. Gotta catch ‘em all.) He’d also had a memorable pint in Scotland once--more than one, actually. 

Despite having tried some fine small batch beers, Dean would admit to a particular fondness for mass produced El Sol, although that had faded a bit after the Djinn decided to hook him up with Carmen, the El Sol girl. Margiekugel was alright. Kingdom was decent; not as watery as Coors Light, but not as smooth as Sam Adams. It was passable. It was affordable. Affordability was key when you wished to drink enough to avoid giant elephants in tiny rooms. 

In retrospect, Dean had fucked up. 

He stared dejectedly into his beer and considered all the ways in which he’d managed to fuck up this time. One, Sam was pissed with him. To be fair, that really didn’t take much. Two, Sam was right. That was what really grated his nerves. Three, he’d managed to upset Cas. That’s where the guilt came in. 

Cas had saved his life. Again. And how did Dean reward him? By screaming at him, which of course got Sam started in Cas’s defense. Dean knew why he’d been pissed, at least. Cas had almost died in the process of preventing Dean from dying, and the fact that Cas could potentially die from something as mundane as a head injury terrified Dean. That was the reason Dean had yelled and stormed out of the bunker. 

Sure, it hadn’t been a bad head injury, but it could have been, if Cas had landed on that rock any differently. 

The guilt, though. The guilt ate him up and attempted to spit him out. Cas had given his grace to save Dean from Michael and while Cas insisted it was his choice and that he made it gladly, Dean knew whose fault it really was. 

“It’s all my fault,” Dean morosely informed his beer. 

“Sorry?” 

Dean looked up at the bartender. “Uh—pay my tab.” He slid a card across the bar top and the dude took it, an eyebrow cocked in question. 

“Done already?”

“Yeah. Need to go home, apologize to someone.”

“Oh.” The bartender ran his card and returned a moment later with the receipt. “Pissed off the wife?”

“Not quite.” Dean didn’t offer anything further, and the bartender moved to the couple at the other end of the bar. Swigging the rest of his beer, Dean left a generous cash tip and headed out into the night. As he slid behind the wheel of his Baby, he considered ways to make it up to Cas. 

Dean’s stomach growled. He could stop at a grocery on the way home and grab the stuff to make burgers. Cas was probably hungry, too, and nothing said I’m sorry like a juicy, Dean Winchester Speciality Burger. 

* * *

The store was nearly abandoned as Dean pushed his cart through the aisles. He pondered buns for a while, vacillating between kaiser and pretzel. Pretzel was chosen in the end, and Dean was a little disappointed he wouldn’t really have the time to make homemade buns. He added that to a mental checklist for next time, and threw some yeast in the cart as well. 

“Excuse me,” a man said, “but do you know where the rosemary is?” 

Dean looked over at the dude. He was about Dean’s height, older than him, and definitely handsome enough that Dean would’ve cared if his laser focus hadn’t been on Cas. “Uh--” he looked at the shelves, pointing at the jar. “There.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” the guy smiled. “I appreciate a man who knows his way around the spice aisle.”

“No problem,” Dean said, heading off to pick up some ketchup. Maybe he’d add Sriracha to it. That would be damn tasty. Yeah, Sriracha ketchup, hand cut sweet potato fries, and the quality, grass-fed, organic ground beef. He was going to make Cas the best burger he’d ever had. Sam would eat too, if the damn Sasquatch knew what was good for him. 

In the produce department, Dean chose some red onions, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumber, and radishes, mentally putting together a nice salad to go with the burgers. He was picking out sweet potatoes for the fries when he caught the eye of the rosemary man again. The guy had a full cart of stuff, including herbs, candles, salt, and a bunch of other odds and ends. Maybe Dean had been on the job too long, but some of the man’s ingredients caught his attention. 

Mainly, the jar of what looked like some kind of animal blood in the top of the cart. 

“The fuck?” he murmured to himself. 

His own cart forgotten, Dean kept a slight distance, observing the man as he finished shopping. Cat litter and food were added to the man’s cart, along with an incredibly expensive bottle of avocado oil. 

Dean managed to stay unnoticed for the rest of the man’s shopping trip. He felt somewhat vindicated for being a paranoid hunter when the man reached for his wallet and Dean caught sight of some sort of arcane tattoo on the inside of his wrist. 

“Witch,” Dean muttered. 

* * *

Dean Winchester had lived (and died, let’s be real here) many years longer than he’d ever expected. He could attribute his long life to one important thing: being a smarter than average hunter. 

Therefore, instead of loading his beloved Colt M1911.A1 pistol full of his and Sam’s patented witch killing bullets, he was quietly sitting across the street from Witch Man’s house, observing. 

If Witch Man turned out to be a threat, Dean would call Cas and Sam and they’d handle it, just like they did everything else. Dean was, after all, a reasonable man. He knew there were witches in this world that had not arrived at their powers through nefarious (read: demonic) means. Much as he didn’t completely trust Rowena, she was a natural born witch ( _ and _ she was growing on him). As were Max Banes and his mother, Tasha. 

So, it was likely that Witch Man was a peaceable member of society. As such, he could potentially be an ally. Dean had learned the value of allies in the last several years. No point making an enemy where there might not be one. 

He yawned, leaning back in the seat. Witch Man had a cute little Craftsman house. It was white clapboard, two stories with a dormer upstairs. The front porch was lined with healthy plants, with more flowers lining the flagstone path to the mailbox. Flowers spilled out of window boxes, while vines climbed a lamp post near the driveway. Witch Man appeared to have the same taste in cars that Dean had, judging by the pristine ‘68 GTO he’d followed to the house. There was an attached garage, but the GTO was left on the street. Dean figured the dude did his witchy business in the garage or something. 

Dean yawned again. Shit, it wasn’t that late. Why the hell was he so tired? Rubbing his eyes, he squinted through the window at the house. The witch had been in the kitchen, but must’ve walked away while Dean was yawning. The tiredness became oddly overwhelming. Dean was struck with the urge to lie down on the seat and sleep for a few minutes. 

His driver’s side door opened and Dean startled, staring up at the smiling dark eyes of the witch. The man muttered an incantation and Dean felt his entire body go boneless. He slumped into the passenger side. Gentle hands shoved him over the rest of the way, as the witch took Dean’s place behind the wheel. 

Witch Man fired up the Impala and shifted into gear. From his position on the seat, all Dean could see was the stars outside the window. He was utterly paralyzed, and knew he should be pissed, or at least panicking, but Dean just lay there, accepting his helplessness. Feeling oddly relaxed and serene, Dean watched in fascination as his baby was moved into what appeared to be Witch Man’s garage. The car shut off, and he could hear the noisy creak of a garage door closing. 

“Wait here,” Witch Man said, a note of amusement in his voice. As if Dean would be able to do anything else. He couldn’t even wiggle his toes. 

Dean must’ve dozed off or something, because when he was aware of his surroundings again, he found himself lying flat on his back. A black wrought iron chandelier was hanging over his head, and on it, six thick, black candles flickered. He still couldn’t move. Whatever he was lying on was cold and hard against his naked back. 

Huh. All of him appeared to be naked, although something silky was draped over his prone body. 

Great. Nearly four decades as a hunter, and he’d managed to foolishly trip into some psycho witch dude’s weird-ass ritual.  _ Fuck my luck _ , he thought irritably. 

“Oh, you’re awake. Hello there,” Witch Man appeared in his vision, long grey-streaked black hair tumbling over his shoulder. He smiled at Dean with unnaturally perfect white teeth, running a hand through Dean’s hair. “My, you have lovely eyes. You’re perfect.”

_ Perfect for what? _ Dean wondered. 

“My name is Armond. I’m sure you’ve already ascertained what I am. Don’t worry, I’ve come by my powers through birth, not demons. I’m not a witch you’d need to hunt, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes widened at Armond’s words. 

“Yes, of course I know who you are. I’ve actually been waiting to get my hands on you for some time, and there you were tonight, alone. I put items in my cart for the sole purpose of catching your attention. Looks like it worked,” Armond chuckled. 

The witch ran his hand through Dean’s hair again, stroking soothingly, and drowsiness swept over Dean once again. 

“I hope you keep the freckles and that your eyes stay such a bright green. I've been waiting for you for nearly a century. You're the last part, the last thing I need to realize my full potential. Sam would have done in a pinch--” Dean wanted to choke the arrogant bastard, “but you're the one I wanted. The power in both of your auras is stunning, but your aura is a little bit purer than Sam's.” 

Armond had moved away from Dean, and since Dean was still paralyzed and unable to turn his head to see what the witch was doing, he relied on his hearing for clues. Glass jars were opened and closed. A drawer was slid out. Something wooden scraped against a countertop. There was the gritty sound of a mortar and pestle. Armond was definitely whipping something up, and to be honest, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. 

He appeared again, a stone bowl in his hands. “I’d tell you to hold still, but you don’t really have a choice on that one,” Armond chuckled. He dipped a finger into the bowl, coating the tip in a reddish purple goo. Carefully, Armond starting drawing on Dean’s chest and forehead, creating sigils with the slick substance. 

_ I guess I know where that jar of blood went _ , Dean thought grumpily. 

“That’s lovely.” Armond turned from Dean and reached for a glass. “You won’t like this part. I’m sorry, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” One hand held the glass, the other reached out and pried Dean’s slack mouth open. “Bottoms up,” Armond said, dumping the contents into Dean’s mouth. He closed Dean’s mouth and set the glass aside, using his free hand to massage Dean’s throat until he swallowed. Dean felt like he should have gagged around the disgusting, thick, metallic-tasting mixture, but he lacked any muscle control whatsoever. Stepping back, Armond starting chanting in a low, guttural voice. 

If Dean had possessed the ability, he would have screamed. White hot pain shot up his spine. It felt like a vise was wrapping around his brain and squeezing. His bones hurt--it felt like they were being broken one by one. It was agony, as bad as anything he'd experienced in Hell. 

Armond’s chanting grew louder and more determined as the pain inside of Dean grew and grew. His eyes spilled tears freely, but his vocal cords and muscles remained useless. Sure that he was going to die as his heart pounded frantically in his chest, it was a welcome moment when the world slipped sideways and blackness dragged him under. 

* * *

[](https://imgur.com/cETWCSg)

He was warm and comfortable, and whatever surface Dean was lying on cradled his body perfectly. For a minute, he thought he must be home, back in his room on his wonderful memory foam. Then he remembered. Blinking awake slowly, Dean stretched. It was wonderful to have control of his body back. Now all he had to do was end the damn witch. 

Sitting up, Dean blinked again. This witch dude had some seriously tall furniture. Or Dean had shrunk. But that would be ridiculous. He looked down at the thing he was laying on. It was white, furry, and soft as silk. It looked like some sort of pet bed. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Armond said as he came around the corner. 

And that was the moment that Dean’s brain screeched to a halt as Armond reached down and  _ picked him up _ . He cuddled Dean against his chest and Dean realized he had a tail. A brown striped cat tail to be exact. 

“Why am I a cat?” he screamed indignantly, only it came out as a loud meow. He sneezed violently, and attempted to wrench himself from Armond’s arms. “Now, now, Dean. It’s not that bad and you’ll get used to it. I’ve been in need of a familiar for quite some time, and you’re absolutely perfect. Sam would’ve sufficed, yes. You’re neither one lacking power, but you, Dean. Your aura is so bright and pure. You’re the ideal familiar.”

_ Fuck you, witch! I am so going to enjoy ganking that smug look off your face! _ Dean hissed at Armond, doing his best to make use of his newly discovered claws. _ I’m going to shred you the minute you fall asleep! _

“Now, since I’m sure you’re already planning my demise, it won’t be safe to allow you access to the house unsupervised for a time. But I’ve prepared a comfortable place for you.” Holding Dean close, Armond ascended a set of stairs to the second floor. “I’ve set this room up just for you.” He pushed open the door to a warmly lit room. 

Dean started hissing the moment he saw it. A cat tree stood in one corner, along with various boxes and cat toys scattered throughout the room. There was a litter box tucked discreetly into another corner, and a food station near the cat tree. A window seat held a soft cushion, a fuzzy blanket, and a few stuffed mice. 

_ You’ve got to be kidding me! _ Dean thought, yowling indignantly. He was most definitely not a cat. Well, ok, at the moment, he was a cat, but this was definitely not his final form--no matter what some crackpot he-witch thought!

Armond pulled something out of his pocket. “I made this for you. You won’t be able to leave this room with it on.” He slipped the collar around Dean’s neck and tightened it. “It won’t hurt you to wear it this tight, and it’s enchanted so you won’t be able to remove it.” Armond held Dean at arm’s length. “I honestly thought you’d be larger,” he lamented, before setting Dean down on the floor. 

With a growl, Dean bolted for the open door. It was like slamming into a sheet of thick glass. He bounced off, shaking his head dizzily. 

Chuckling, Armond reached down and patted Dean’s head. “Sleep well, little one,” he said, turning and walking down the hall. 

Furious, Dean threw himself at the open door once more, only to be rebuffed just as hard a second time. He stared up at the open door and let out a long, low growl. Dean yelled angrily as he heard Armond laugh at him down the hall. _ I will shred you the next time you set foot in this room, He-Witch! _ Dean thought, directing all his ferocity down the hall. Not that it did any good. 

Sulkily, he turned from the doorway and looked back into the room. The slightly open window maybe, he thought, crossing the room quickly. He hopped up onto the window seat and tentatively reached a paw through the one inch gap. Or tried to, anyway. 

Growling, Dean turned to survey his prison from his perch. There had to be a way out. Armond obviously was confident he wouldn’t escape no matter what; he would have closed the window and the door otherwise. The collar had to go. If Dean could just get the collar off. 

Raising a paw, he slid it between the collar and his neck, attempting to pry it over his head. Instead, he lost his balance and tumbled right off the window seat. 

_ Huh. Maybe cats don’t always land on their feet _ , he thought grumpily, sprawled gracelessly on his side. There just had to be a way to get the collar off, and Dean was determined to find it. He paced around the room for a bit, thinking. Finally stopping in front of the open door, he stared up at the handle. It wasn’t a knob. It was a lever handle, and an idea started to form in Dean’s head. 

His first several jumps were completely unsuccessful, but the fifth jump was the charm. He caught his collar on the door handle - and promptly slid back off. 

_ Dammit!  _ Irritated, but undeterred, Dean leapt again. He caught the handle on the first try, wiggling his body until he hung by his collar at the base of the handle. It took a minute, but Dean quickly realized that maybe he’d made a critical error. The collar wasn’t budging, and he was unable to breathe in his precarious position. 

_ FUCK!  _ Dean thought, clawing at the door in an attempt to break free. Being stuck in Armond’s cat room was definitely better than suffocating. A wave of dizziness washed over Dean, and his struggles to get free grew weaker and weaker. Dean fought desperately to stay conscious, knowing if he passed out, that was the end. But blackness was filling the edges of his vision, and Dean knew this was it. 

Just as he’d given up, his collar snapped. Maybe Armond wasn’t such a smart witch after all. A smart witch wouldn’t have used a breakaway collar. Triumphant, Dean took a step out the open door. There was no resistance whatsoever, and he quickly scurried down a nearby stairwell. After that, it was easy to get out of the house through an open porch window downstairs. 

Outside in Armond’s driveway, Dean stared up at the moon. It was later than it had been when Armond caught him in the Impala, but not so late that the moon was too high to tell direction. The problem was, it was getting chilly, and Dean knew he was quite a ways from the bunker. Sighing internally, he pointed his small body east and headed home.

* * *

He reached the bunker an unknown amount of time later, and Dean was chilled through and through. Yowling pitifully at the steel door, he even attempted to claw at it, hoping that a miracle would occur and either Sam or Cas would hear him. 

It became evident that wasn’t going to happen, so Dean curled into a tight little ball right next to the door, wrapping his tail over his nose for warmth. 

Hopefully someone would find him in the morning. Just as Dean was dozing off, it started to rain. He stared balefully up at the sky.  _ That figures _ , he thought.  _ Even as a cat, my luck sucks.  _ The rain was like drops of ice falling on his back. Curling into an even tighter ball, Dean shivered. 

This was going to suck.

[](https://imgur.com/HYZIRqM)


	2. No Dummy Dummy

“Oh, you poor thing,” a deep voice murmured. Dean startled awake as pale dawn lit the sky. His small body was lifted by gentle hands. “You’re soaked and it was so cold last night. I was going to go for a run, but that can wait.”

Blinking against the light, Dean stared up at a familiar face. Cas had him cradled against his chest. Beyond relieved, Dean meowed pathetically, burrowing tighter against Cas’s delicious warmth. 

“Ssh, little one. We’ll get you warmed up and find something for you to eat,” Cas told him as he walked down the stairs into the bunker. “Sam, I need your help!”

Sam appeared at the base of the stairs, watching as Cas descended. “What’ve you got?” he asked. 

“I found a small cat outside. It’s wet and miserable.”

“Aww, poor lil guy,” Sam said, reaching out and scratching behind Dean’s ears. “Let’s give him a quick bath to get that mud off. We don’t have any pet food, but scrambled eggs are ok for kitties.”

Dean blinked sleepily up at his brother, feeling a rush of gratitude for the instant caretaker mode Sam had snapped into. Cas followed Sam into the bunker’s kitchen. Finally feeling warm after his restless and freezing night outside, Dean was finding it difficult to stay awake. He watched as Sam bustled around, filling the sink with warm water. He left the kitchen and returned a moment later with a bottle of Johnson’s Baby Shampoo and some fluffy towels. 

“He won’t like this,” Sam commented, lifting Dean out of Cas’s arms, “but I can’t think of a single way to get mud off a cat without washing him.”

“It is a him, yes?” Cas asked. 

Dean’s world turned abruptly upside down as Sam flipped him over. “Yup, he’s definitely a boy,” Sam chuckled. He carefully set Dean down in the warm water. “And definitely a stray. He’s at least eight or nine months old. Kind of old to be unneutered, which means he probably needs shots and a full check-up. Huh,” Sam mused, staring down at Dean in the sink. 

“What?” Cas joined Sam, both of them staring down at Dean. 

Dean stared back, blinking sleepy eyes at them. 

“I’ve just never seen a cat so placid about being in a bath.”

Cas frowned. “Maybe he was simply tired of being muddy and decided to cooperate?”

_ Or maybe I’m not a cat, dummies _ , Dean thought, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Whatever. Just give him a wash, Cas. I’ll start some eggs for him.”

Tilting his head, Cas squinted at Dean. “Wash the cat,” he mumbled. “Ok.” He reached for the bottle of shampoo and poured a dollop into his hand. “Uh--I’m going to attempt to wash you, little one. Please don’t claw me.”

A warm wave of affection for his dorky friend washed over Dean. Of course, he wouldn’t claw Cas. As soon as Cas starting rubbing the shampoo into his dirty fur, Dean started purring. It surprised him so much that he jumped. He didn’t even know how he was doing it, just that he was. And as Cas massaged him further, his purr grew deeper. 

“Wow, he really likes that,” Sam mused, reappearing over the edge of the sink. “I’ve never met a cat who likes to be bathed.” 

“He is purring quite contentedly,” Cas smiled, reaching for a cup on the side of the sink. He began to rinse Dean, long fingers rubbing the suds out of his fur. 

A delicious, buttery smell filtered in over the smell of shampoo. Dean basked in the contentment of being warm. For the moment, he didn’t even care that much about being a cat. 

“Eggs are done, if you want to dry him off. Dean wouldn’t like it, but he can sit on the table and eat.” 

“Alright.” Cas rinsed the last little bit of soap from Dean’s fur before carefully lifting him from the sink and wrapping him in a towel. He carried Dean to the table before setting him down in front of a plate of eggs and a small bowl of water. 

“Don’t tell Dean we let the cat eat on the table. He’ll murder me,” Sam told Cas. 

_ No, he won’t _ , Dean thought, digging into his breakfast. 

“Do you think Dean might let us keep him?” Cas scratched behind Dean’s ears. “He’s so sweet. And I...I’ve wanted a pet.”

“Yeah, I know. I keep wanting to ask him to get a small, self-sufficient animal,” Sam sighed, “but Dean is allergic to cats, and--”

Dean sneezed. Twice. Little bits of scrambled eggs blew across the table. 

_ Great. I’m allergic to myself. How ironic. _

“Huh. You know, even if we don’t keep him, it probably wouldn’t hurt to get him a checkup. Maybe the vet would know of a good home or something,” Sam mused, wiping up the eggs. He stared at Dean. “Weird.”

“What?”

“I swear this cat just rolled its eyes at me. Cats can’t do that, right?”

Cas looked thoughtful. “I’m honestly not sure.”

They both stared quizzically at him, and if Dean had been able to form human words, he would’ve yelled  _ BOO _ . Instead, he yawned. 

“Aw, he’s sleepy. We should make him a little bed or something. I’ll go get an old box. Meet me in the library.” Sam stood and left the kitchen.

“Alright.” Cas gathered the dirty dishes and got up, dropping the items into the sink. “Come, little friend.” He scooped Dean into his arms. “Is it wishful thinking to name you? I know Dean’s not going to let us keep you.” Cas sounded so sad it damn near broke Dean’s heart.

He’d known Sam wanted a dog for quite some time, but he didn’t know Cas wanted a pet, too. And it seemed like maybe it was something he and Sam had talked about. 

Dean grew sleepier as Cas carried him to the library, far too tired to concentrate on his train of thought. He saw the library, and Sam folding a flannel shirt into a box, but that was it. His eyes were determined to stay closed, and Dean drifted off to peaceful sleep. 

* * *

[](https://imgur.com/O2HDIOZ)

Cas tucked the sleeping kitten into the box Sam had put together with one of his old flannel shirts. “He’s so cute,” he murmured, stroking a finger over the velvet of the cat’s nose. He smiled at the responding unconscious ear twitch. 

“I want to keep him,” Sam confessed. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. “I should try and find a vet who can fit us in soon.”

“A good idea.” Cas settled at the table, leaned his chin on his hand, and gently stroked the sleeping cat’s soft fur. “Why does Dean get to decide whether or not the cat stays or goes? Who elected him boss of the bunker?”

“Wow,” Sam grinned at Cas from over his laptop screen. “You never talk bad about Dean. You must really want this cat.”

“I do. And I’m not--I’m not talking bad about Dean, per se. I just don’t think it’s fair. You’ve asked for a dog for years.”

“Yeah, but he was right about that. We’re gone a lot, and the places we go aren’t always safe, or practical, to take a dog. And imagine if one day we didn’t make it back. The poor guy would starve.”

“We could kennel a dog if we took a long trip,” Cas pointed out. “You’re making excuses that Dean has likely drilled into your head until you believe them.” Sam cocked an eyebrow and Cas sighed. “I really want the cat.”

“What do you think we should name him?” Sam asked, clearly done arguing. He slid his laptop to the side and gently petted the cat behind his striped ears. 

“Tom?”

“Tom? Why Tom?”

“He’s a boy and a stray.”

“Ok, but that’s kind of boring. Maybe something Dean would like? Might help us convince him.”

“Hmm,” Cas thought. “Impala?”

Sam frowned. “Maybe if he was a black cat, since the car is black.”

“Beer?”

“No,” Sam snorted. 

They tossed names back and forth for a bit, also dismissing Dr. Sexy, Angus, Han Solo, both Rocky and Bullwinkle, Shaggy, Bukowski, Bucky, and Hubcap. They both had several good names, but couldn’t come to an agreement. 

“I really like Cheeseburger,” Cas said, returning to a previous argument. 

“Cas, that is a really weird name for a cat, I’m sorry. I mean, Cheeseburger? Who thinks of cheeseburgers when they think of cats?” 

“I found an entire website dedicated to cats and cheeseburgers. It’s called cheezburger.com.”

“That’s not what that means. It’s just funny cats,” Sam said. 

“Well, maybe he is a funny cat, and that might be the perfect name.”

“C’mon, Cas. Let’s try and think of something a little more Dean-centric.”

They both leaned back in their chairs, lost in thought. Cas tried to think of all the things Dean loved in the world and was struck with another idea when he remembered the cassette tape Dean had made for him. “I’ve got it,” he said as he sat up, smiling at Sam. “Zeppelin.”

“Huh.” Sam’s expression turned thoughtful. “I like it. I think Dean will, too.” Sam picked up and dialed a number on his phone. “Hi, my name is Sam, and I need to make an appointment for my new cat. His name is Zeppelin.”

Cas tuned out Sam’s conversation, fingers still stroking the cat. They had a name. Now all they had to do was convince Dean to let them keep their newfound pet. 

* * *

Dean woke slowly, doing his best to stay asleep, since he was ridiculously warm and comfortable. He stretched, feeling the welcome burn in his muscles as he moved them for the first time in hours. 

He blinked awake, staring up at the library ceiling. That was weird. Had he fallen asleep in the library?

“Hello, little friend,” Cas said. 

Startled, Dean yelped. He sat straight up as Cas’s inexplicably large hand came down to rest on his head. Oh right--he’d forgotten--he was currently a cat. He sneezed three times. “Merow,” he groused, flopping back down into the box he’d apparently been using as a bed. The box was lined with a soft flannel he recognized as one of Sam’s old ones. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry I startled you, Zeppelin,” Cas soothed, lifting him out of the box. 

_ You named me Zeppelin? Guess that’s ok until you and ‘Squatch figure out I’m Dean.  _

“We’re taking you to the vet soon. You need a checkup, possibly shots. They’ll be able to tell us how old you are, too.”

_ Great, Cas. I just love a doctor’s visit. _ Dean thought it was a damn shame his sarcasm was being wasted. 

“Hey, so I ran out to the store and got this pet carrier. I don’t know how he’ll be on a car ride. Better safe than sorry, right?” Sam set a beige carrier on the table and opened the metal grate. 

_ Oh hell no! _ Dean yowled at the carrier and backed away, his spine arched.  _ I am not going into the kitty prison!  _ Dean jumped out of the box and hopped off the table. Ignoring Cas and Sam’s surprised shouts, he dashed down the stairs of the library and into the war room, pulling a hard right at the kitchen. He could hear Sam’s clodhoppers hitting the floor behind him as his brother gave chase, but Dean was tiny now, and four legged, so getting away from Sam was easy. 

Dean ran into his own room and looked around frantically for a place to hide. He knew what would happen if they took him to the vet--he’d get his balls chopped off! He’d need those things when he eventually regained his humanity and he’d be damned if Sam or Cas thought they were going to violate him that way. The dresser! Just a few inches off the ground, Sam would never look there. Dean squirmed his way underneath just as Sam entered the room. 

“Here, kitty kitty,” he cajoled. 

_ No, dummy dummy _ , Dean thought. 

Sam’s feet moved around the room, joined a moment later by a pair of worn blue Nikes. “Did he come in here?” Cas asked. 

“I thought so. I’m not sure now,” Sam said. 

“Did you look under the dresser?” Cas knelt and his face appeared. “Hello, Zeppelin. Please come out.” Dean hissed in response. “I understand. You needn’t be afraid. It’s just a checkup. Nothing else, I promise.”

“It’s a cat, Cas. They don’t understand--” Cas lifted him off the ground as Dean came out from under the dresser, hoping his trust in Cas wasn’t misplaced. “I’ll be damned.”

“I think he likes me,” Cas smiled. Dean turned on the purr and bumped his head against Cas’s chin. “See?”

“Yeah, yeah. See if you can get him in the carrier.” 

Cas carried Dean back out to the library and set him on the table. He opened the carrier and placed one of the folded blankets from the box inside. “There, I made it more comfortable. Please?”

He stared up at Cas, looking into his eyes. Dean liked what he saw--Cas’s usual guileless expression, which meant that he wasn’t lying about the trip just being a checkup. Sighing internally, Dean walked into the carrier and lay down. Cas shut the door behind him. 

They’d better not get any ideas about neutering. 

* * *

“Well, he should definitely be neutered,” Dr. Portman said, examining Zeppelin’s hind quarters. “He’s pretty old to be intact.” She lifted his tail and looked again as Zeppelin hissed and tried to escape Sam’s grip on his upper body. “Feisty, too!” 

“Yeah. C’mon buddy, hold still. How old do you think he is?”

“Well, he’s actually about five and half, which would make him about thirty-nine in human years. He’s just really small. Probably from being a stray. Also, this age might make it more difficult to domesticate him.” 

Sam picked Zeppelin up and snuggled him against his chest. The cat immediately stopped hissing and burrowed close. “I dunno. He seems pretty happy with us.”

“Honestly, we’d thought he was someone’s pet already, since he seems so content to be with us. He doesn’t act like a stray,” Cas added. 

“Well, he’s not chipped. I guess you could put up posters to see if anyone is missing him, but honestly, with his small size and the fact that he’s intact, my best guess is that he’s just a well behaved stray. We can get him a round of shots today, and schedule him for neutering if you’d like.” 

“That’s a great idea. We’d like to keep him for sure.” Sam held Zeppelin close to his chest. Dr. Portman bustled about getting a round of shots ready, and if Sam didn’t know better, he’d think the struggling cat in his arms knew what was about to happen. 

“He seems distressed,” Cas commented, watching Zeppelin struggle for freedom. 

“C’mon, Zep, settle down,” Sam cajoled, wincing as an errant claw slipped through the fabric of his shirt. “Ow!” 

Zep stopped struggling and looked up at Sam, something like regret on the cat’s face. No, that would be ridiculous. Still, he sat perfectly still as Dr. Portman delivered the shots, then allowed Cas to load him back into the carrier. 

[](https://imgur.com/JG970iT)

“Ok, so we’ll see you in a week for the neutering. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. We do this all the time.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Cas said, lifting the carrier from the exam table. He led the way out of the doctor’s office. 

Sam stopped at reception and paid for the shots and exam, double checking the date for neutering. “Didn’t you think that was weird?” Sam asked Cas, once they were settled in Cas’s truck.

“What?”

“Zep was all worked up and then he clawed me. I said ‘ow’ and he instantly calmed down. He almost seemed like he was sorry.”

Cas frowned as he signaled to change lanes. “I don’t believe cats experience things such as regret,” he said. 

“Well, yeah, like I know that. Just, I dunno. Seemed weird.” Sam peered into the carrier. Zep was curled into a little ball towards the back with his tail flopped over his nose. He was deeply asleep. “Damn, he’s cute.”

“That he is.” Cas sighed and turned onto the gravel road that led to the bunker’s garage. “I’m still worried Dean won’t let us keep him.”

“We’re not giving Dean a choice, ok? For once we’re in charge. Claritin exists for a reason. Two out of three is majority rule and we’re keeping the cat.”

“Alright,” Cas agreed. He stopped in front of the door to the bunker’s garage and Sam hopped out of the truck and opened it. Cas drove through and Sam shut the door behind him. He walked after the truck, hoping to find the Impala in its usual spot. 

“I thought Dean would be home by now,” Cas said as he got out of the truck. Sam didn’t miss the note of sadness in his tone. 

“I’m sure he’ll be home eventually--once he stops wallowing, anyway.” Sam pulled the carrier out of the truck. “I’ll run out a little bit later. We really need kitty supplies, like litter and a box, food, maybe some little toys. And a collar. Just in case.”

“That would be good. We can make him some more eggs for his lunch. Maybe some plain chicken.”

“Ok. I’m gonna go chill in my room for a bit. I’ll take the little menace with me.” 

Cas nodded as Sam took Zep out of the carrier and headed towards his room. “You seem sleepy, little dude,” he said to the cat. Zep blinked tired eyes at him. “You can nap on my bed. I’m just going to watch some TV.”

Sam pushed open the door to his room and stepped inside, closing the door shut behind him. He set Zep on the bed, and chuckled as the cat immediately lay down on one of his pillows. Sam sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his boots. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a moment, trying to make a decision. 

He dialed the number. It went straight to voicemail. Sam listened to the voice instruct him to leave a message while debating whether or not he should. The line beeped. 

“Uh, hey, Rowena. It’s Sam. Sam Winchester. Uh--I was just um, checking on you, I mean checking in. Yeah, I was checking in. Just wanted to see if you’re ok. I mean, if you need anything. Yeah. Ok. Have a nice day.” Sam hung up the phone and dropped his head. “Idiot,” he chastised himself. 

Sam yanked himself back off the bed and crossed the room to his DVD player. He shoved in a movie, without really looking to see what it was, before curling up on his bed next to the cat...who was giving him the strangest look. Like he was silently judging Sam and his choices. 

“What? I like her. She’s funny and smart, she could teach me so much about witchcraft, and you know what? I’m allowed to have a stupid crush. You’re not Dean. You don’t get to judge me.”

The cat looked away, eyes downcast. 

“Oh hey, Zep, I’m sorry buddy. You’re just a cat and I’m apparently oversensitive. I just,” he pulled the cat a little closer so he could stroke Zep’s satiny ears. “I really like her. And I know Dean is going to be completely against it. For one, she’s a witch. For two, she’s Crowley’s mom. I dunno,” Sam mused. “Not like he doesn’t have his own weird interspecies thing going on. Except Cas is human now; Dean really should make a move already.” The cat abruptly stopped purring and shifted under Sam’s hand. Sam looked up at the TV screen. “I seriously put on  _ Practical Magic _ ? Wow. That’s almost too Freudian.”

Zeppelin yawned and scootched in closer, his purr slowly starting back up. Sam absentmindedly stroked his soft fur as he watched Sandra Bullock on screen, his own eyes getting heavier before finally closing. A cat nap seemed like a great idea. 


	3. The Litterbox Blues

Dean woke slowly, aware of Sam’s rumbling snores. He’d dozed off in his brother’s bed. Stretching, he winced a little. The injection sites from his round of kitty shots were sore. He hoped there wouldn’t be any lingering effects once he was human again. 

His stomach grumbled, and Dean hopped off the bed to go in search of Cas--and hopefully some food. As he walked up the hall to the kitchen, Dean thought about Sam’s confession. His brother seemed to have fallen for a witch--and not just any witch, Crowley’s centuries-old Mom. He guessed it wasn’t that weird. Sam had also fallen for a demon once. At least Crowley wouldn’t be around to gloat and give Sam shit about it. 

But that whole  _ Dean should really make a move  _ crap--what was that all about?  _ Stop fooling yourself, idiot, _ he chastised himself.  _ You know exactly what it’s about and exactly what kind of move Sam thinks you should make. _

Cas was sitting at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of tea while reading  _ Alice in Wonderland _ . Dean hopped onto the bench and then up onto the table. 

“Well, hello there,” Cas smiled, closing the book and setting it aside. “Did you have a nice nap?” he asked, reaching out to pet Dean’s head. 

Dean purred and stepped closer, butting his head against Cas’s chin. God, he loved the way Cas smelled. Like rain and green grass. That was weird. Had he always been able to pick out scents like that?

“Are you hungry?” 

Dean meowed an affirmative.

“I have a few things I can safely feed you until Sam and I can go to the store.” Cas stood and crossed the room to the refrigerator. He rustled around inside while Dean patiently licked a paw. All of his fur had gotten out of order while he’d napped. That simply wouldn’t do. He settled into full on bathing himself, licking a front paw and using it to fix the fur on top of his head. Cas worked on food for him while Dean bathed and when Cas returned to the table, Dean was lying on his back and half curled up, licking his balls. Which felt... _ awesome _ . 

[](https://imgur.com/qrXPuJd)

“Must you do that on the table, Zeppelin?” Cas asked. 

Dean froze mid-lick, looking up at Cas with half his tongue poking out. Holy. Shit. He’d been licking himself, bathing just like an actual cat. Fuck. 

He sneezed three times in a row. 

“Here. I looked up foods online,” Cas said as Dean sat up, gathering himself into a more presentable position. “You can safely consume all of these things.” He set a plate and a bowl of water on the table. 

There were some chopped up bits of what looked like ham, a little tuna, some brown rice, and even a small mound of green peas. It didn’t look too bad, actually. Dean purred and butted his head against Cas’s hand. 

“Enjoy, little one. I’m going to make a list of things we’ll need from the pet store.” Cas pulled out a pencil and notepad. While he wrote, Dean nibbled at his food. With cat taste buds, he could barely even pick up the individual flavors. It was incredibly frustrating, but the food was filling, and the water nice and cool. 

“That’s where he went. I woke up and he’d wandered off.” Sam made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out the juice. 

“He was licking his balls on the table earlier. It was entertaining.”

“Gross.” Sam sat at the table with his juice, reaching out to stroke a hand through Dean’s fur. “Good thing you’re cute, you little shit.”

Dean meowed in response which led to some food dropping out of his open mouth. Cas chuckled. 

“He is a little gross at times. Also, he’s still sneezing.”

“The doctor said that wasn’t completely abnormal.”

Tuning them both out, Dean concentrated on his food. He started feeling sleepy as all hell again. Is that all cats did? Eat, sleep, and shit? To be fair, he hadn’t done that yet. He’d been sneaking off and peeing in the one shower stalls no one used, but he hadn’t had to poop as of yet. And of course, as soon as he thought about it, he had to go. 

Fuck.

Jumping off the table, he headed towards the bunker’s large community bathroom. Dean found his favorite stall and stared up at the suddenly enormous toilet.  _ Huh. Well, I’m not using a litter box. And we don’t have one anyway. C’mon, Dean, it can’t be that different, right? Just gotta get up on the seat. Two legs on each side over the hole. We got this baby.  _

The urge became more pressing and he took a deep breath, gathered his wits and jumped. 

* * *

“What kind of cat willingly jumps into a toilet?” Sam asked, carrying a wet, angry feline into the kitchen and dumping him into a sink filled with warm water.

“Judging by the accident on the floor in front of it, he needed to go to the bathroom.” Cas opened the baby shampoo and poured a dollop onto his hand. “We’re going to need to go to the pet store and get supplies right away.” 

“It’s kind of late. I was going to go first thing in the morning, but I’ll go now. Was dumb of us to not go after the vet trip. Hopefully they’re still open.” 

“There’s a list on the table. Get anything else you think we might need.”

“Will do. I’ll grab a pizza, too. I’ll try and give Dean a call when I get back.” 

Cas rubbed shampoo into the cat’s fur. “I hope he answers.”

“Yeah, well. You know Dean and his hurt feelings. He’d rather hide than discuss them.” 

The cat looked up at Cas, fidgeting a bit in the warm water. “Maybe it isn’t so much that he doesn’t want to discuss his feelings. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t feel safe to do so.”

Sam shuffled his feet a bit. “Yeah, uh. Well, Dad wasn’t big on feelings, y’know? And I’ve been guilty of brushing Dean off when he tries to get serious with me.” Sam leaned over the deep sink and stared down at Zeppelin. “He doesn’t seem to be enjoying this bath as much as the last one.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Cas lifted a cup to rinse the cat’s head and ended up splashing himself as Zep tried to escape. “Come on, we’re almost done,” Cas soothed, pleased when the cat settled again. 

“I swear this cat speaks English. Anyway, I’m gonna head out. We’ll try and call Dean when I get back.” Sam tapped Cas’s shoulder and left the kitchen. 

Zeppelin made another half-hearted bid for freedom. “Wouldn’t you rather be toilet-germ free? Cooperate, please,” Cas said, gently pushing Zep back into the water. He filled his hand with soap again, and ran his fingers up and down Zeppelin’s spine. His purr started up a few minutes later. “There, isn’t that better?”

He was able to finish the cat’s bath without much fuss. Cas grabbed a fluffy towel off the kitchen table and lifted the cat into it, wrapping it firmly around him. “Now that you’re all nice and clean, would you like to finish your dinner?” Cas set Zep on the table and the cat immediately dug into the remains of his meal. “I’ll be glad when Sam comes back. You could certainly use a nice brushing.”

Opening his book, Cas returned to Alice’s adventures while Zeppelin ate, but it wasn’t long before his thoughts strayed to Dean. He still had difficulty wrapping his mind around the fact that Dean was angry at him for saving his life. If Cas hadn’t intervened, Dean would have been bitten by that werewolf, and they’d have a whole other host of problems now. 

“I did the right thing,” Cas said out loud, startling Zeppelin. “Oh, I’m sorry. Please eat, little one,” Cas murmured, stroking the space between the kitty’s ears. “I’ll never have any regrets over anything I’ve ever done in regards to saving Dean.” The cat stopped eating and looked up again. “When you meet him--he’s the most stubborn man on the face of the earth. He wants to save and help everyone, but won’t let anyone save him.”

Sighing as he stood, Cas bustled around the kitchen while the cat eyed him curiously. “I raised him from Hell. I’ve stood by his side so many times, brothers in battle, but even now--” Cas ran hot water into the sink and added dish soap and the dirty dishes. “He still can’t see that I would willingly give up everything for him. He still can’t see how much…” Cas trailed off, the words unsaid hanging heavy in the air. 

A gentle nudge against his ankles made him look down and smile. He reached down and lifted Zeppelin into his arms and held him close. “You are such a sweet little friend,” Cas murmured, stroking Zep’s soft fur. He glanced over at the table. “You still haven’t finished. Sit and eat while I do the dishes,” Cas told the cat, sitting him back on the table. 

By the time all the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, Zeppelin had finished eating and his fur was fully dry. Sitting back at the table, Cas scooped the kitty into his arms. Zep immediately started purring as Cas stroked his velvety ears. 

“I miss him,” Cas said softly. Zep seemed to turn up his purr, butting his head against Cas’s chin while gently kneading his front paws into Cas’s arms. Cas smiled, and used his whole palm to stroke the soft fur over Zep’s head. The cat’s purrs grew softer and he curled into Cas’s arms. Within a few moments, he was sound asleep. 

* * *

[](https://imgur.com/Ya1pjNa)

Dean woke slowly, unsure if he was annoyed about how much he was sleeping, or enjoying the immense amount of downtime. It had only been a few days and it seemed like more downtime than he’d ever had in his entire life. Stretching languidly, he took note of his comfy new digs. Someone had moved him into a plush, furry green cat bed. The bed was sitting in one of the cushy library chairs, tucked into a corner. 

Dean hopped down, stretching a little more on the chilly library floor. He idly wondered what time it was as he began a thorough bathing, spending extra time on certain parts just ‘cause it felt good. Satisfied with the state of his fur, he set out towards the bathroom to relieve himself. 

The door was shut. Dean scratched at the door and yowled. He needed in there or there was going to be a neat puddle of kitty pee on the floor. 

“Good morning, little buddy. Need the potty? Coming right up.” Sam scooped him up and carried him down the hall. In a corner of the war room, he deposited Dean into a low, rectangular pan. 

_ Uh no, Sasquatch. I am not using a litter box _ , he thought, stepping neatly back out. 

“Uh-uh. You gotta go, you go in there, Zeppy. Nowhere else, or Dean will pitch a fit.” He put Dean back in the box. 

Dean got back out. 

Sam put him in again. 

They continued like this for a moment before Dean’s bladder overwhelmed him and he emptied it into the tray of kitty litter. 

“Atta boy!” Sam cheered. 

_ I hate you. _

Sam reached down and slid a collar around Dean’s neck. “So get this. The pet store actually has Led Zeppelin kitty collars. Now you have a name tag and if you get lost, someone can call us.” He showed Dean two other collars. “Also got Metallica and AC/DC. Maybe it’ll help Dean get used to you faster.” 

Dean purred at the idea of rock band collars. That was pretty effin cool to be honest. 

“Oh, he’s up,” Cas said as he appeared from around the corner, looking adorably rumpled and sleepy. 

“Yes, and he just used the box like a good boy!” Sam lifted him back up and Dean did his best to level his brother with a glare. “Such a good kitty,” Sam said, scratching between Dean’s ears. 

His anger melted quickly with the pleasure of having his head scratched. His purr turned on and he melted into Sam’s arms, only half listening to the conversation he and Cas were having. 

Rolling in Sam’s arms, he presented his belly for petting, purring deeply as Sam’s awesome fingers scratched through his fur.  _ Oh yeah, this is the life,  _ he thought. 

“...just can’t believe he hasn’t bothered to check in, and now his phone is going direct to voicemail,” Sam was saying as he carried Dean into the kitchen. “He’s not in Sioux Falls at Mom and Bobby’s, he’s not at Jody’s, he’s not with Donna, or the Banes, or at Jesse and Cesar’s. No one has seen him. I thought he might at least crash at Charlie’s but she hasn’t seen him either. Hell, I even called Jack at college.”

“I don’t think he would go to Jack’s. He wants Jack to concentrate on school. I’m honestly starting to worry. This isn’t like him.”

Dean looked over at Cas. Brow wrinkled, Cas looked worried. But Sam was still petting him and Dean gave himself over to the good feeling. 

“He’s being a total dick if you ask me. If he’d just be honest with himself, we wouldn’t have this problem in the first place!”

“Sam--”

“You know I’m right, Cas.”

“Well I haven’t exactly been honest with my feelings either.”

“Cool. So you’re both idiots.”

Sam set Dean in front of a set of bowls on the floor. “Eat up, buddy,” he said, running one last stroke over Dean’s head. 

Dean stared into the bowls on the floor. One held water, which was fine. He had himself a nice long drink before checking out the other bowl.  _ What the fuck is that?  _ Chunky, gelatinous pinkish-brown weirdness inhabited that bowl and  _ holy fuck what is that smell? _

“That’s your breakfast, little dude. Eat up.” Sam made himself a cup of coffee while Dean glared at his breakfast. 

_ Ok, Sasquatch. I know you can’t hear me. But seriously. Why the hell would you think anyone, even a cat, would eat that? Seriously. _ Dean turned from the bowl. 

“Well. That’s all you get, kitty.”

Cas came and knelt beside Dean and the bowl. “Please eat, Zeppelin.”

_ No _ . 

“Hmm. He doesn’t seem like he likes it. Maybe ‘cause he’s been feral all this time, he can’t recognize that it’s food?” Sam knelt next to Cas and pulled the bowl closer. “It’s ok, buddy. It’s good for you,” Sam leaned down and took a whiff. He gagged dramatically. “Damn glad I’m not a cat!”

_ I am not eating this shit. _

“I could just make him some eggs,” Cas said. 

Dean meowed hopefully. 

“I mean, he’s a cat. That’s cat food. Cats are supposed to eat cat food.”

“Clearly, he’s not interested in the cat food. I’d just as soon feed him scrambled eggs.” Cas poked at the unattractive mess in the bowl. “Cat or not, this looks disgusting.”

Purr going full blast, Dean butted his head against Cas, grateful for his sensibility. No one wanted to eat that shit.

“Whatever,” Sam sighed. “I didn’t buy that much, anyway.”

Cas busied himself pulling a pan out and fetching eggs and butter from the fridge. “Besides, did you read the ingredients? I don’t believe those chemicals would be good for him anyway.”

“Ok, ok, feed him whatever you want.”

Smug, Dean crossed the kitchen floor and hopped up on the table to await his breakfast.  _ Score one for the feline!  _ As Dean ate his scrambled eggs, a delicious smell started filling the kitchen. 

“What’s in the oven?” Sam asked. 

“I was hoping Dean might come home today, so I made him a cherry pie.”

_ Cas, you are the damn best buddy. You seriously deserve some kind of medal. _

“That’s really nice of you,” Sam said as he stood and cleaned up his breakfast mess. “But you don’t owe him an apology.”

Cas blushed. “I just wanted to do something nice,” he muttered. 

_ Hey man, I totally appreciate it, don’t listen to Bitchsquatch. _

“I know, I’m just saying--”

“I know what you’re saying,” Cas shot back. 

“Ok, ok.” Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Gonna go grab a shower.” He left the room a moment later. 

Dean watched all of this in fascination, his eyes widening in pleasure as Cas pulled the pie out of the oven.  _ Wow, buddy, you are a pie making champ! Look at that gorgeous thing! _ The pie was lovely, brown and crisp, with an alluring stain of red around the vents Cas had cut into the top crust. Dean hopped off the table and up onto the kitchen island where Cas had set the pie to cool.  _ Oh man, that is bee-u-tiful!  _

“No pie for kitties,” Cas admonished, sitting Dean back onto the floor. Cas then made a critical error. He left the kitchen. 

Dean hopped back up on the island.  _ Hello, sweetheart. I’m Dean, I’m an Aquarius, and I love me some pie. Nice to meet you.  _ He nibbled at the crust, annoyed when it burned his tongue a bit.  _ Ooh, playing hard to get. That’s ok. I’m a patient man...er, cat. _

Cas didn’t come back and Dean kept checking the pie’s temperature. Finally cool enough, he took a big bite right out of the center. It honestly didn’t taste like much on his cat taste buds, but he didn’t care, happily chomping away until he was so full he couldn’t move. 

Flopping over on his side, he delicately licked cherry pie filling from one paw. 

“Oh Zeppelin. Cas is gonna murder you, buddy.” Sam stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. “You are in deep shit, kitty.” 

Dean just rolled onto his back and licked filling off his other paw. 

“Zeppelin, you didn’t!” Cas exclaimed, coming back into the room. “I worked all morning on that! I even made the filling by hand! Look at you, you’re covered in Dean’s pie!”

“He looks like he took a bloodbath,” Sam said gleefully. 

“That pie was for Dean,” Cas huffed, stomping over to the sink. “Now I don’t have a pie and the damn cat needs another bath.”

_ Trust me, Cas, Dean totally enjoyed that pie.  _ He yelped a bit as Cas unceremoniously yanked him off the island and deposited him in the sink. 

“You wash him. I’ll clean up the mess,” Sam offered. 

“Thank you.” Cas looked down at Dean as he reached for a small pitcher. “I suppose I shouldn’t have left him alone with the pie. It’s my fault.”

“Well, at least that’s something him and Dean have in common, right?”

Cas barked a laugh. “Sure is.”


	4. I Don't Bother Chasin' Mice Around

Happily sated and clean, Dean took a short nap after breakfast. When he woke, Cas and Sam were nowhere to be found. He hopped off the table and wandered down the hall towards the bedrooms. He had to pee again, and using that litter box was not going to happen. 

The sound of water running in the shower told Dean the bathroom door was open, which pleased him greatly. He was sure he could use that far shower without being noticed by whoever was showering, which hopefully wasn’t Sam because he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to see his baby brother in his birthday suit. 

Cas, on the other hand…

Dean peeked his head around the corner into the bathroom. He didn’t smell Sam’s ridiculous lavender mint shampoo (that he might occasionally use on the sly) so he walked into the bathroom, his paws silent on the tile floor. Dean could only assume it was Cas in the shower, but he wasn’t completely sure until his friend let out a gasp, followed by a breathy “Dean--”.

_ Oh shit _ . Was Cas--

Cas groaned, his voice low and gravely in the back of his throat. Dean could hear the sound of skin on skin as Cas clearly enjoyed his shower.  _ Do I leave? _ Dean wondered. Surely there was something super not cool about listening to one’s best friend jerking off in the shower while they moaned your name. 

“Oh, Dean. Oh--oh-- _ ahhhh _ !” Cas sobbed, gasping a bit as Dean could only imagine he came all over the shower wall. 

The worst thing about it, to Dean, wasn’t that he’d listened in to Cas’s oh-so-private moment. It was that Dean, as a cat, experienced zero arousal at what was one of the hottest experiences of his life, listening to his best friend--who Dean had thought of as much more for quite a while--jerking off while apparently thinking about him. 

_ Fuck this cat shit sucks. I need to find a way to communicate! _

Right as Dean made this important decision, Cas pulled back the shower curtain, as naked and glorious as the day Jimmy Novak was born. 

_ Fuck _ , Dean thought, eyes sweeping over gorgeously cut hip bones, a toned, fit body, thighs that could kill a man, and one incredibly beautiful, thick, uncut dick.  _ Oh my god, I need that in me.  _

“Hello, Zeppelin,” Cas smiled, reaching for his towel and covering his perfect body. “Did you have a good nap?”

_ Sleeping is the actual last thing on my mind right now, buddy. _

Cas swept the towel over his skin, wiping away every last drop of water before hanging it up and walking unashamedly to where his clothes lay neatly on the shower room bench. Dean watched avidly as Cas dressed in boxers and a tee. Reaching down, Cas attempted to scoop Dean into his arms but Dean neatly avoided him, trotting off to his preferred shower stall to pee. 

“Zeppelin, no!” Cas chided, following after him. 

Ignoring him, Dean stepped into the stall and positioned himself over the drain. He took care of his business, as Cas watched, clucking his tongue. 

“Sam will not be pleased with you, Mister.” Cas turned on the shower briefly after Dean vacated the stall, washing any remains of cat urine down the drain. “We got you a box for a reason--not that I don’t think you’re quite clever, peeing right down the drain like that.” Dean purred, proud of himself. “I think we’ll keep this door closed from now on.” He successfully scooped Dean into his arms and carried him out of the bathroom.

“Still nothing from Dean,” Sam grumbled as he passed them in the hall. “I’d be pissed, but honestly, I’m starting to worry.”

“Me, too,” Cas said. 

_ Hmm. I need to find a way to communicate with these guys, _ Dean thought. _ They’re really worried about me. _

He squirmed out of Cas’s arms and dashed down the hall toward the library. Finding what he needed on a close table, Dean hopped up onto the surface. He couldn’t have planned it better if he’d tried. 

Sam’s laptop was open, running, and on a Word document.  _ Ha! I’ll just type a little message and let them know I’m here.  _ Dean positioned his paws over the keys and started typing.  _ Dear dummies, your adorable little cat? Yeah. That’s me, Dean! _

[](https://imgur.com/WWhfdZ8)

“Zeppelin! Get off my laptop!” Sam grabbed Dean around his middle, lifting him off the table and setting him down. 

“Did he damage it?” Cas asked. 

“No, just typed a bunch of gibberish. Goofy cat. I got him some toys. We should let him try them out.”

“Alright. We also need to keep the bathroom door shut. He used the shower stall again.”

“Bad kitty,” Sam said, looking down at Dean. “Kitties pee in the box!”

_ Up yours, Bitchsquatch.  _ Tired, Dean crossed the library floor and hopped up on the sofa. Clearly, the laptop was a giant fail. He’d have to find another way to communicate. 

_ Yeah, I’ll get on that. Right after this nap.  _

* * *

Dean smelled blood. It was strong, metallic, and harsh in his nose.  _ What the fuck?  _ He sat up and looked around. He wasn’t in the bunker. His surroundings were old, industrial. A warehouse of some sort.

_ Dean, are you alright?  _ Whipping around, Dean gaped as a black cat with startling blue eyes walked towards him.  _ You fell and were so still. I was quite worried. _ The cat, evidently his fallen angel buddy on four legs, butted his head against Dean’s, letting out a soft purr. 

_ Why are you a cat? _

Cas drew back slightly and looked at Dean, black head tilted in confusion.  _ Did you hit your head? _

_ Is he alright? _ Another familiar voice asked. A large mountain lion with a shaggy mane came into view. 

_ Sammy?  _ Dean asked, voice jumping several octaves. Well, brain voice anyway. What the hell, this world was so damn confusing!

_ I think he hit his head _ , Cas responded, and Dean was suddenly besieged by two tongues grooming him. 

_ Get off of me! _

Sam huffed.  _ Jeez, Dean, we just want to make sure you’re ok! _

_ I’m fine! Your tongue is ridiculous, stop licking me!  _ Both of them sat back on their haunches and stared at him. 

_ That vamp knocked you down a whole flight of stairs _ , Sam informed him.  _ And you were unconscious. We have a right to be concerned.  _

_ We’re hunting? We’re fucking cats! And why the hell are you a goddamn mountain lion?! _

_ See, this is what I’m talking about. You can’t even remember everyday things. We need to take you to the Vet.  _

_ It would be best _ , Cas added. 

Dean opened his mouth to growl in displeasure when he was suddenly snached right off the ground. A vamp opened its ugly mouth, clearly heading for Dean’s neck, but then the ground seemed to disappear and up was down and down was up for a moment. When Dean was finally back on his feet, it was just in time to see Sam the Gigantor Mountain Lion rip the vamp’s head from its shoulders...with his teeth. 

_ Holy fucking fuck. _

A soft chuckle startled him awake, and he opened his eyes to find himself on Cas’s--blessedly human Cas’s--comfortable lap. 

“You were twitching and making little growls in your sleep,” Cas told him. “Must’ve been chasing mice in your dreams.”

_ Yeah, mice. That’s right. Not goddamn vampires! _

Relieved to learn that weirdness was just a stupid dream, Dean settled back in Cas’s lap, ignoring just how right and awesome it felt to be lying in Cas’s lap in the first place. His last thought as he drifted back off was wondering how he, a small tabby cat, and Sam, a frakking  _ mountain lion _ , could be related in the first place. 

* * *

“Zeppelin, you get your ass back here!” Sam dashed down the hall, in hot pursuit of a four-legged feline. He’d been making notes on a Men of Letters file folder with a sharpie when Zep had jumped up on the table and snatched it right out of his hand. “Crazy animal, come back here!” 

Zeppelin pulled a hard right and ran into the storage room slash dungeon. Sam followed, but didn’t see the cat when he entered the room. “C’mon, lil dude, where did you go? And why do you want a damn permanent marker?”

Nearby scratching alerted Sam to the cat’s location and he turned a corner, finding Zep with the marker in his mouth as he drew all over a cardboard box. The cat growled at him when he reclaimed the marker. 

“What’s going on?” Cas asked, as he entered the room. 

“Goofy cat stole a sharpie and drew all over this box.”

Zeppelin hissed. 

“Now Zeppelin, kitties have no use for markers,” Cas admonished, scooping the cat into his arms. Sam watched as the cat struggled against Cas’s hold. 

“He’s not a happy camper. Wonder what his deal is?”

“I don’t know,” Cas said, letting out a surprised gasp and dropping Zeppelin. “He clawed me!” The cat dashed out of the room and disappeared around the corner. 

“Here, let me see,” Sam said, gently grabbing Cas’s arm and pushing up the long sleeve of his henley. Little drops of blood welled up, but it didn’t appear to be too deep. “It’s not too bad, but you should probably wash that off, make sure it’s clean. Don’t want cat scratch fever,” Sam chuckled. 

“I just don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s been so good, but your laptop earlier, and now this with the marker.” Cas frowned at his arm. “And he clawed me. He’s never been aggressive to me before.”

“I dunno, maybe you scared him when you picked him up?” 

“Hmm.” Cas crossed the floor to the room’s desk, plucking a tissue from the box on top. “I worry, because I find him incredibly likable, and lovable, and I’m scared Dean won’t see it, or will focus solely on the bad things.”

“I mean, he hasn’t really done anything bad. He’s just being frisky. It’s kind of adorable.”

A soft smile bloomed on Cas’s face, chasing away his wrinkled brow. “He really is cute,” he agreed, pressing the tissue against his arm. 

Zeppelin trotted back into the room, something caught between his teeth. “Whatcha got there, pal?” Sam asked, reaching down to lift the cat into his arms. 

Dean’s heavy brass amulet, the one that had been stashed in Sam’s keepsake box damn near forever, dangled from the cat’s mouth. “How the hell did you get your paws on that?” Sam pulled it out of Zeppelin’s mouth and shoved it into his pocket. “What else did you get into in my room?”

He carried the cat down the hall toward his room, Cas following close behind. For the most part, Sam’s room looked fairly unmolested, save the keepsake box that had been pushed out from under his bed. The contents had been strewn all about, pictures and other items in a mess around the box. 

“Oh Zep,” Sam said, setting the kitty on his bed. “Looks like you’ve been a little menace.” 

Cas knelt on the floor and carefully put some of the items back in the box. “This is a great picture,” he said, holding up a fun shot of Sam and Dean laughing. Zep meowed loudly and dove off the bed, trying to bite at the picture and pull it from Cas’s hand. “Zeppelin, no!” Cas said firmly. He gently shoved the cat away and put the items back in the box. 

Sam reached down and lifted Zeppelin away so Cas could finish. “Little wild man, what is your deal?” He held the cat close and stroked his ears, while Cas put the lid back on the box and shoved it under Sam’s bed. Zep struggled briefly, but the ear stroking must’ve gotten to him. He closed his eyes and purred heartily under Sam’s ministrations. It wasn’t long until the cat was sound asleep in Sam’s arms. 

Sam couldn’t help a smile as Cas pulled out his phone and took several pictures of Zeppelin sleeping. “You’re really gone on this furry little guy, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I find myself overwhelmingly attached to him, which is worrisome. I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive Dean if he insists we get rid of him.”

“I don’t think he will,” Sam said, continuing to stroke the sleeping kitty. “I think he’ll be able to see what Zeppelin means to you. Dean cares about what you want, y’know?”

“Does he?” Cas asked incredulously. “He sure has a strange way of showing it.”

“It’s Dean. Emotions? Yeah. So not his strong suit.” Sam swallowed and collected his thoughts. “He cares about you,” he said softly. “He cares about you like I think you care about him. You’re both too shy to make a move. But one of you needs to.”

Cas paled. “I don’t think--I mean--I don’t--” he sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think I’m what your brother wants, Sam. Though I desperately want to be.”

“You are. And I swear, when he gets home? Make a move, Cas. It’ll be welcomed, I promise you. My stupid brother is so head over heels for you, he can’t see straight. I mean, the whole reason he got mad and ran off was because you hit your head. He’s probably thinking about all the ways that could have been worse. You could have been really hurt. Think about it. How many hunts have we been on since you went human? A dozen or more, right? Yeah. How many times has Dean been flirted with but walked away? Pretty much as many times as hunts.” Sam shifted the sleeping cat and put his hand on Cas’s shoulder as a comfort while Cas decidedly looked everywhere but at Sam. “Cas, I only want you guys to be happy. And you make each other happy. Trust me.”

“I do, Sam. I do trust you.” Cas took a deep breath, seemed to steady himself. “I will talk to Dean. When he comes home, we’ll have a long talk. I promise.”

“Good.” Cas nodded and left the room, leaving Sam with Zep still curled in his arms. “Let’s just hope dumbass gets home soon,” Sam told the cat. 

* * *

Dean woke up slowly, surrounded by the crisp wood and lavender smell of his little brother. The smell thing was starting to weird him out...a lot. Not to mention being awake one minute and passed out the next. How could he possibly require that much sleep?

He stretched and lifted his body off of Sam’s spare pillow. Sam was nowhere to be found, so Dean jumped off the bed and onto the floor, intent on getting into the bathroom to relieve himself before anyone noticed. Of course, the damn door was closed. Stomping off to the war room, Dean got into the box and went, glaring at Sam as his brother rounded the corner. 

“Good kitty!” Sam praised. Dean hissed in response. “Oh come on,” Sam said, lifting Dean into his arms as he exited the box. “I know you’re used to going outside au natural so I’m really proud of you for using your box. How about some lunch?”

_ Not if you’re going to try and pass that canned slop off as food again.  _

“I think Cas made you some chicken and rice or something. Since you’re clearly not going to eat the cat food.”

_ Cas is the real hero around here, Sam. _

The smell of meat greeted Dean’s nose as Sam carried him into the kitchen. Cas had just set a small plate on the table, filled with diced chicken, peas, brown rice, and little bits of scrambled egg. 

“Kitty safe chicken fried rice,” Cas announced, setting a little bowl of water next to it. 

“On the floor,” Sam said. 

Cas frowned. “He likes eating on the table.”

“I know, but Dean would be pissed and I want Zeppy to stay as much as you do, so--” Sam set Dean on the floor and reached for the bowls, “kitty eats on the floor.”

_ Whatever, Sasquatch _ , Dean grumped, diving head first into the food dish, far too hungry to resist. 

“So get this—I was thinking maybe we could try a location spell? I’m running out of ideas and it’s starting to scare me that he’s been gone this long without contacting us in any way. And now that his phone is going right to voicemail, I can’t even GPS locate him.” Sam sighed heavily. “I’m scared, Cas.”

“Me too. It’s not like Dean has never gone off and sulked like this before, but it’s been a few days, and he always kept his phone charged, even if he didn’t answer it.”

Dean listened to Cas and Sam discuss him and his whereabouts, guilt poking at him for how worried they were. If Dean hadn’t been such a dick that night and had stayed home, none of this would be happening now. He’d be home and everything would be ok and the two people he cared about the most wouldn’t be beside themselves with worry. 

A location spell would probably work just fine, but confuse them more, because a location spell would just indicate that Dean was in the bunker. Huh. That might work in his favor. Maybe if the location spell said he was in the bunker, then the two of them would figure out just who their little cat friend was. 

Dean hopped back up on the table, interrupting the conversation with a butt of his head to the underside of Cas’s chin. 

“Someone wants attention. I’ll go get the spell stuff together.”

“Alright,” Cas agreed, lifting Dean into his arms to pet him. “You’re so affectionate,” Cas told him, clearly pleased with the purring kitty in his arms. His fingers stroked over Dean’s head, and Dean got the whiff of something delicious. He tried to follow the smell with his nose, but Cas’s hand kept stroking over his head. Doing his best to hold that hand still, Dean used both paws to pin it to the table. Cas chuckled as Dean licked his fingers. 

“Do you taste cheeseburger on my hand?” he asked. “I had one for lunch.” No, it wasn’t the cheeseburger. It was something else. Maybe it was simply the way Cas himself smelled. Dean licked his way up Cas’s arm, following that delicious smell. Anything that smelled that good had to taste amazing. 

He was sitting on Cas’s shoulder, nose buried in Cas’s hair, when Sam returned to the kitchen. “I’ve got all the stuff together to do the--what is he doing?”

Dean looked up, surprised to realize he’d been licking Cas’s hair. Shit, he’d been grooming Cas!

“I think he’s decided I’m a cat and needed a bath,” Cas said, a note of humor in his tone. “I thought it was adorable, so I let him continue.”

“You are one weird cat,” Sam told him, patting Dean affectionately on the head before lifting him off of Cas. “Can you help me with the spell?” Sam asked Cas.

“Of course.”

They left Dean in the kitchen. He hopped off the table and walked to his water bowl for a drink.  _ I’m not a cat _ , he thought irritably,  _ and I need to stop acting like one.  _ He caught sight of his own reflection in the polished stainless of the industrial oven, taking in his bright green-gold eyes and brown striped fur. He even had a little peachy-pink nose.

_ Well. At least I’m fucking cute. _

[](https://imgur.com/TkVHXiY)


	5. Songs For Cas

Sam slammed the bowl full of ingredients onto the library table and sat down with an angry huff. 

“Maybe we’re doing something wrong?” Cas asked. 

“I have done this spell dozens of times and I’ve never had it not work. This is ridiculous. Dean isn’t here, so why does it keep saying he is? Maybe I should do it again.”

Cas frowned. “If it didn’t work the first six times…”

Zeppelin hopped up onto the table and meowed plaintively. Cas couldn’t help but smile as he ran a hand over Zep’s soft head. Zep would not be placated and continued to meow, poking at Sam’s spell bowl with a paw. 

“Cat, if you don’t cool it, I’m going to lock you in the cat carrier.” In response, Zep coolly knocked the spell bowl over, sending the ingredients all over the table and into Sam’s lap. “Damn it, Zeppelin!” he bellowed. 

The cat froze and looked at Sam in alarm. He scurried and jumped off the table and disappeared down the library steps. 

“You scared him!” Cas said, standing. “He’s just a cat. I think he just wanted your attention. It’s not his fault the spell isn’t working!” 

“He’ll be ok. This is so damn frustrating though! I must be doing something wrong, because the goddamn scrying crystal kept pointing at the cat.”

“Maybe the cat is Dean then, I don’t know.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. He wanted very much to go check on Zeppelin, but Sam was upset and he felt torn in his loyalty to his friend and by his worry for Dean. “Let me go check on the cat while you clean that up and then we’ll try again--” A massive crash from the direction of the bedrooms stopped them both dead in their tracks. 

“What the hell was that?”

Another boom of disaster had them both dashing out of the library. The breaking and crashing sounds seemed to be originating from Dean’s room. Cas’s mouth dropped open as he rounded the corner and stood in front of the open door. 

“Oh no…” he whispered. 

Zeppelin sat in the middle of the bed, glaring as Sam caught up, taking in the scene with all the horror Cas felt written on his face. “Zeppy, what did you do?” he whispered. 

Dean’s room was in a state of utter chaos. 

Record albums littered the floor, shoved off the shelf beneath Dean’s ancient turntable/tape deck. All of the weapons that lined the walls or sat on the concrete shelf had been knocked to the floor. Clothes had been pulled from the hamper and scattered across the floor, and even Dean’s toothbrush and razor had been knocked off the sink. His desk lamp was on its side on the desk and a cup full of pens and pencils had been upended. Dean’s nightstand was open, and a bottle of Astroglide left a shiny trail on the floor below. Torn up paper lay everywhere. Sam reached down and lifted a shredded copy of Busty Asian Beauties from the mess. 

“Oh god. We are so dead. So dead. He’s never going to let us keep Zeppelin now.” Zeppelin let out a long, loud hiss before casually sending Dean’s bedside lamp to the floor. “Zeppelin, no! Bad kitty!”

“Stop yelling at him!” Cas said. “You’re scaring him, it’s probably why he did this in the first place.” Cas carefully crossed the room and lifted Zeppelin from the bed. “Take him to your room. I’ll clean this up.”

“Cas--”

“Just take him,” Cas said, pushing the cat into Sam’s arms. “He’s still so agitated.” Cas watched Zeppelin struggle to get away from Sam. “Maybe this would be a good time to try the catnip?”

Sam brightened. “Ooh, yeah. Maybe the kitty-juana will calm him down a bit. I’ll try that. Good idea, Cas!” he called, as he carried Zep back to his own room. 

Cas took a good look at Dean’s room and sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve got my work cut out for me,” he mumbled, reaching out to right Dean’s lamp. “I hope you don’t decide to come home right this minute.” Cas knelt and starting carefully sorting record albums. “At least wait until the room is clean.”

Albums sorted, he got to work on Dean’s laundry. Cas decided he might as well wash it, and took the reloaded hamper down to the laundry room. In all, it took well over an hour to deal with the mess in Dean’s room and when it was all done, he was hungry and tired. 

In the kitchen, he found Sam making a stack of bacon grilled cheeses. “I know it’s not much for dinner, but it’s getting late and I’m hungry and figured you would be, too. Zeppy is in a happy catnip haze in my room, so sit and eat.” He put a plate full of sandwiches on the table and Cas happily sat and dug in, nodding his thanks when Sam added a tall glass of milk. 

“I’m sorry I lost my temper with you, Sam.”

“It’s ok, Cas. It happens. Part of being human.”

Cas nodded his agreement and they ate in a slightly pensive silence. After two sandwiches, Cas’s hunger was gone and other concerns reared their ugly heads. 

“What if he’s hurt somewhere? What if he’s hurt or trying to get home and can’t and Sam--I can’t feel him anymore. I have no way of knowing where he is or what’s happening to him and I--I hate it! I don’t mind being human but this disconnection--”

“Cas,” Sam reached across the table and laid his hand over Cas’s. “We’re going to find him, ok? He might be hurt, yes. Maybe he’s a John Doe in a hospital somewhere, but we’re going to find him.”

“How? The spell didn’t work and--”

“Rowena is on her way,” Sam smiled. “She’s about twelve hours out, but she’s coming. And Rowena  _ will _ find him.”

* * *

Dean had done some drugs in his time. Weed, a little Molly, even dropped acid a time or two. The last two hadn’t been that fun, but weed? Yeah, Dean loved him some Mary Jane. If Sam knew how much weed Dean still did, he’d probably roll his eyes and give Dean some half hearted lecture about it, but weed was good. Weed helped Dean relax and forget about the ever running shit show of his life and just chill. 

Dean even had a specific mixtape for getting lit, full of Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Tom Petty, and Zep’s  _ Dazed and Confused _ . 

Weed, however, had nothing on catnip. 

Dean lay sprawled across Sam’s bed, occasionally rolling all over it just ‘cause it felt good and he liked it when his nap spots smelled like him. Best way to get his scent everywhere was to roll around and spread that feline musk far and wide. He may have marked his territory the traditional way as well, although he was a good big brother and didn’t spray Sam’s bed. The corners of the room? That was different. 

Dean didn’t like this room as much as his own. The lavender and wood smell that permeated Sam’s room smelt like home and family, but the smell that followed Cas was so much better. But since that wasn’t in Sam’s room, Dean would just make sure it smelled like himself. That was almost as good. 

Dean hummed a little tune to himself, then started singing the lyrics.  _ Stray cat strut, I'm a ladies cat. I'm a feline Casanova, hey man that's that. Get a shoe thrown at me from a mean old man. Get my dinner from a garbage can. _

Sprawling out across the bed, Dean kind of just slid off the mattress like a slinky, flopping over on his side on the floor. A plastic grocery bag caught his interest, and he picked up the smell of catnip wafting from it. Unsteadily pulling himself to his feet, he wandered over and dug his nose into the bag. Leaping back in surprise, he laughed at himself when he realized the beady black eyes staring at him were from a stuffed mouse...a stuffed mouse that smelled  _ awesome _ .

He fought with the sack until the mouse pulled free, beyond pleased to find there were about half a dozen of the little guys in that bag. Dean took a long sniff of them when they were all free of their plastic prison. God, the smell. They smelled so, so good and Dean couldn’t get enough. He grabbed one in his mouth and shook it back and forth to try and smell it a little more. 

It fell from his mouth and he swatted it across the floor, laughing when it bounced off the wall. Time slipped sideways as Dean lost himself in pursuit of the little mice and when Sam returned an unknown amount of time later, Dean was giving himself a complete and thorough bathing in the middle of Sam’s bed, parts of destroyed catnip mice spread all around Sam’s room. 

“So you like those little mice, huh? Well, I’d rather you destroy them than Dean’s room.” Sam sniffed the air. "Oh Zeppy. Did you really pee in here? I guess that's my fault for locking you in here but damn. My room smells like a litterbox."

Dean stared at his brother in horror, midlick over his balls.  _ Oh fuck, I’m licking my balls again. I forgot. Fuck, I forgot.  _ Completely freaked, Dean righted himself and dashed off the bed.  _ I am not a cat. I am not a cat. I am not a cat, _ he chanted to himself over and over, running through the halls, trying to find Cas. He needed Cas.

His room was completely cleaned up, the fresh smells of fabric softener and lemon scented cleaner hanging in the air. Obviously that communication attempt hadn’t worked at all. There was a lingering smell of rain, which Dean recognized as the distinct smell of Cas, but it was waning. He left the room, doing his best to follow the scent, and finally found Cas sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. 

“Hello, Zeppelin,” Cas greeted, reaching down to lift him into his lap. Cas resumed drinking his tea while stroking Dean’s head. “You’ve calmed down. I’m glad.”

_ Cas, buddy, I need you to hear me. Please. It’s me, it’s Dean. Help me, I think this spell is changing my brain. Cas, please. Please.  _

Cas didn’t react, but continued petting Dean. 

_ Oh god. I’m going to be a cat forever. I can’t--no. I can’t do this, they’ll never find out what happened to me. And that bastard still has my car! _

Finished with his tea, Cas stood with Dean carefully cradled in his arms. “Let’s find you some dinner, since I’m sure all you’ve had tonight is catnip. That’s hardly filling.” Cas rummaged through the fridge. “Hmm. I don’t really see any cat appropriate food. I’m sorry my little friend. I’m afraid it’s going to be the canned food tonight.” 

Dean was so distracted by the alarming thoughts in his head, he hardly noticed when Cas set him down, or when he put the bowl of cat food in front of him. Dean ate it all in a daze, barely tasting it. He was completely shaken by how much of his human side seemed to be dying. Armond’s spell was working. Buried underneath everything was a budding desire to return to Armond’s side and serve as his familiar. The witch’s power called to him. 

“Good boy,” Cas murmured, stroking Dean’s head. Dean melted under his touch, eyes blinking lazily as his full belly threatened to pull him into slumber. Cas lifted him and then they were moving in the direction of the bedrooms. 

Cas’s room was still fairly spartan, as though the former angel was afraid to settle in. Dean had noticed it before and it broke his heart every time. Another failure on his end, that Cas didn’t feel secure enough in his place within the bunker’s walls to move in all the way and decorate. 

The room didn’t smell right either. 

Dean sat on Cas’s bed and watched him move around. Cas pulled open a mostly empty drawer and took out the only pair of pajamas in it. Dean felt his heart break a little more. How had he not noticed how little Cas had? Why hadn’t he provided for this man--this angel--that had literally given up everything for him? _ I fuck over everyone I love,  _ Dean thought sadly. 

He jumped off of Cas’s bed and ran out into the hallway. Dean went under the bed in his own room and curled up below the headboard, next to his keepsake box. If he had been human, he’d have been fighting off tears. Still, his heart felt wrapped in chains of deep sadness. When had he become such an uncaring asshole? 

“Zeppelin?” Cas’s voice came closer and the wonderful rain scent of him filled Dean’s nostrils. “Where did you go, little one? Please come out.”

Dean curled in tighter against the box. He didn’t deserve Cas. He never had. 

Gentle hands wrapped around him, and he didn’t fight as Cas pulled him out from under the bed. They ended up settled in Dean’s bed, curled together on his memory foam. 

“You’ve had something of a rough day, haven’t you? I’m sorry about earlier. Sam and I are just so worried about Dean and the spell wasn’t working.” Cas sighed and stroked Dean’s ears while Dean drowned in his own misery, desperate for a way to tell Cas he was right there with him. “I just want him to come home. Although I’m not sure what will happen when he does.” Cas’s hand stopped moving. “I’m in love with him,” he whispered. “And I’m so scared he doesn’t feel the same, even if Sam seems to think he does.”

_ I do, Cas. With all my goddamn heart. But I don’t deserve you.  _ Dean pulled himself away from Cas, settling at the end of the bed. 

“Dean is so hard on himself, even if he does feel the same, he probably won’t admit it.” Cas looked so sad and it made Dean hurt that much more.

He did feel the same, so incredibly the same that it was ridiculous, but between his feelings of low self worth and broken relationships-- _ am I having a come-to-Jesus with myself? _

A sniffle made him look up just in time to see Cas wipe a tear away, but more followed, and Dean watched in horror as Cas broke down, pulling Dean’s pillow to his chest while he cried. 

_ I have to do something. Fuck.  _

The problem was, he didn’t know what to do. Dean walked across the bed and meowed softly, butting the top of his head against Cas’s chin. He tried to turn on his purr but it wasn’t working. He mewed again, doing his best to get Cas’s attention, but his friend was lost to his sadness. 

_ What do I do? Shit, I don’t know what to do.  _ Dean struggled to come up with an idea and was suddenly struck by inspiration.  _ The tape!  _ Dean hopped off the bed and went underneath, heading straight for his keepsake box. Getting into Sam’s had been almost impossible. It was wooden with a little brass latch that had thankfully been partially undone, or he wouldn't have gotten in at all. Dean was far more low rent and all of his pictures and goodies were stuffed into a shoebox. He batted the lid off easily. 

Right on top was a Memorex cassette tape. He’d made it the same day he’d put the Led Zeppelin tape together for Cas, only he hadn’t had the cojones to give to him. Well, dammit, Cas was getting the damn thing now. Tape gripped firmly in his mouth, he crawled out from under the bed and leapt back up onto the mattress, carefully dropping the tape in Cas’s lap.

God, he remembered that night so well. The Zep tape hadn’t taken much time, other than the time it took to switch albums. But--

“Songs for Cas?” Cas asked, turning the tape over in his hands. 

That tape had taken all night, a bunch of whiskey, buying a few iTunes and hooking his iPod up to the stereo to get all the music he wanted. He’d gone from buzzed to full on drunk while trying to decide whether or not to include Aerosmith’s  _ Angel  _ or whether  _ I Need You  _ by America worked or not. Twelve hours in total, a completely sleepless night, a whole bottle of whiskey and he still hadn’t gotten up the balls to give it to Cas--at least, not until now, when his balls were much smaller and covered with fur. 

“Zeppy, you need to stop getting into Dean’s stuff,” Cas said, clearly distracted by the tape. His admonishment was half-hearted at best. 

_ C’mon, Cas, put it in the tape deck. _

Cas looked at the tape and then back at Dean’s stereo. “There’s fourteen songs on here. I’m going to get some jammies on. Be right back,” He told Dean with a little pat to the head as he left. 

Dean waited patiently, but Cas was back a moment later. He wore Dean’s old threadbare Zep shirt and the pair of worn flannel jammies he’d taken from his dresser earlier. His feet were bare, his hair was mussed from changing, and Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

_ Fuck, I love you, _ he thought. _ You’re the goddamn love of my life, Cas.  _

Cas shut the door behind him. “Don’t want to disturb Sam,” he explained. Dean loved how Cas talked to him like he was a real person. It made him feel less like a cat. “I hope Dean won’t mind me listening to this,” Cas said, reaching for the tape as he sat on the bed. “He obviously didn't want me to have it yet.”

_ No, I did I swear.  _ I just wasn’t brave enough to give it to you. Dean butted his head into Cas’s arm, trying to encourage him.  _ Just listen to it, Cas. _

“Just listen to it,” Cas chastised himself. He popped open Dean’s tape deck and put the tape in on Side A. With a steadying breath, Cas pressed play. Leaning back against Dean’s pillows, he pulled Dean close and stroked his head while _ In Your Eyes _ started playing. Dean could almost picture John Cusack with that huge boombox. He purred and climbed into Cas’s lap. At least Cas wasn’t crying anymore.

God, he hoped this worked. 

[ ](https://imgur.com/h9PQ4nI)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Songs For Cas](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLkI1sLf-GDYLxta3qPkT-hqq-xrQ9NYfj)


	6. Rowena Saves The Day (As Is To Be Expected)

Cas stopped the tape deck with a shaking hand. He’d listened to the mix in its entirety and there could be no doubt. Unlike the Led Zeppelin tape--which was good, but mostly just a mix of regular songs--this tape had a clear message. One that Cas was afraid to trust. 

“But he didn’t give the tape to me,” Cas murmured. He looked at Zeppelin, sound asleep on Dean’s pillow. “What do I do?”

Standing, Cas stretched his arms over his head. Without really thinking about it, he shut off the lights in Dean’s room and crawled into the bed beside the cat. Cas sank into the mattress, amazed by the comfort. His wasn’t nearly so comfortable. His room wasn’t so comfortable. Cas often felt like a guest in the bunker, despite Dean’s gruff assurance that it was Cas’s home, too.

Thinking of Dean made Cas sad. He lifted his cellphone off the nightstand and dialed Dean’s number, but once again, it went straight to voicemail.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re alright. Sam and I would really like you to come home. Please, Dean--” Cas’s voice cracked. “Please come home.” He hung up and set the phone aside. Cas laid awake for a long time that night, and when Sam woke him in the morning, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. 

“I’m sorry to bug you, man,” Sam said, thankfully not mentioning the fact that Cas was snuggled up in Dean’s bed, “but Rowena’s here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’ve got pancakes going. Come join us when you’re decent.”

“Alright.”

Sam shut the door behind him as Cas sat up, still not ready to face the day. At least Sam would’ve have put on coffee by now, so there was that. He switched on the light on Dean’s nightstand. Zeppy was still sound asleep, curled on a pillow with his tail over his nose. 

Cas smiled and ran a hand over his soft head. “Sleep on, little one.”

In his own room, Cas quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and an old worn flannel of Dean’s. He joined Rowena and Sam in the kitchen. 

“Ah, there’s our bonny angel,” Rowena greeted him. Her signature red curls tumbled over her shoulders and her tiny hands held a tea cup. “Didja sleep well, then?”

“I didn’t,” Cas mumbled, heading directly for the coffee pot. 

“Rowena thinks she can help us find Dean. We just need something personal, like hair or nail clippings.” Sam explained. Cas glanced over at him, confused by the look of open adoration he was sending Rowena’s way. Sam noticed him looking and flushed deeply and looked away immediately. 

“There should be some hair in his comb.”

“Yes, that should work perfectly. Samuel tells me you’ve adopted a wee puss?” 

“We have,” Cas couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. “He’s very sweet. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to meet you later. Cats are naturally drawn to witches after all.”

“Aye, they are. But don’t worry,” Rowena assured him. “I’m in no need of a familiar and have no interest in taking him away from you.”

Cas’s shoulders slumped in relief. He hadn’t even realized he was concerned about that until Rowena made it clear it wasn’t an issue. “Thank you.” Cas sat down with them at the table. “What other ingredients will you need?”

“I should have everything. Just a bit of Dean’s hair will do.”

“We can’t thank you enough for coming to help, Rowena,” Sam said earnestly. 

“Well, Dean did kill Lucifer. I think he’s due a favor or two from me.” She set her empty tea cup on the table. “Thank you for breakfast, Samuel. I’m ready to get started. Sooner we find your brother, the sooner we can get him home.”

* * *

Dean woke up warm and comfortable on his own bed, which was a treat all by itself. He was pleasantly surrounded by the rain and fresh grass smell of Cas, and his human form’s cinnamon and leather scent. He stood and stretched, arching his back and enjoying the movement of his muscles. The scents of coffee and pancakes drifted into his room along with Sam’s lavender-wood scent, the overall old book smell of the bunker, and another smell he didn’t recognize. It smelled like roses and shortbread. 

_ I’m hungry, might as well get up.  _ The new smell got stronger as he passed the empty kitchen. He stopped at his litterbox and used it, then headed into the library. 

“I just don’t understand why it’s not working,” Sam huffed, frustration evident in his voice. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” Cas added. 

_ Great, they’re trying the useless spell again _ . Dean walked up the steps and jumped onto the table, surprised when he came face to face with Rowena.  _ Hey there, witch lady. Guess what, your spell isn’t gonna work either. I’m right here.  _

Rowena’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why, he’s right bloody there!” she exclaimed, pointing at Dean. 

Sam and Cas froze. The bowl Sam was holding slipped from his hands. 

_ Can you hear me? _

“Well, of course I can hear you. Who did this to you?” She looked him over. “Armond DuBois.” She shook her head. “Thinks just because he can see souls and auras, he’s some high quality witch. Newsflash,” Rowena smiled at Cas and Sam, “he isn’t.” 

_ Can you fix me? Please say you can fix me. _

“Aye, I can fix you.”

“So this whole time--I mean--this whole time, with the food and the destroying stuff and--” Sam spluttered, unable to complete a coherent line of thought. 

_ I was trying to get them to realize it was me. _

“He was trying to tell you two brutes who he was. Poor Dean,” Rowena reached out and lifted him into her arms, overwhelming Dean with the smell of roses and buttery shortbread. “Stuck as a kitty all this time with no one to listen to you.”

_ For real. I tried so hard to get them to understand. Please change me back. I can’t deal with this anymore.  _

Rowena nodded. “Samuel, fetch my bag.” 

Cas grabbed the bag instead and followed Rowena out of the room. He was so quiet, and Dean wasn't sure he liked the look in his friend’s eyes. Sam followed, still muttering to himself as he tried to make sense of everything. 

Rowena carried Dean’s small body to his room and placed him in the center of his bed. “This is going to hurt,” she warned him. 

_ Make them leave _ , he thought, nodding his head towards Cas and Sam.

“Aye. He wants you to leave.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked. 

“Because it’s going to hurt, and he’s going to scream, and let the poor boy keep some of his dignity.”

Dean butted his head against Rowena’s arm in thanks. 

“You’ll come get us as soon as it’s over?” Cas didn’t look convinced. 

“Of course.”

“Ok.” Cas turned and left the room, pulling a still protesting Sam with him. He shut the door behind them. 

Rowena perched in a chair next to Dean’s bed. “I wish there were an easier way,” she said, gently running her fingers over Dean’s ears. “Armond’s magic isn’t as advanced as mine, so undoing it won’t be as easy.”

_ Just do it. Everyday I feel like I’m losing more of myself, and there’s this strong pull to go back to him. _

She nodded. “Aye. It’s a progressive spell. In another day or so, there would’ve been nothing human of you left. Armond might be sloppy, but this spell does the trick.”

Dean shuddered. _ I’m glad they called you. _

“If it makes you feel better, you make a lovely cat.”

_ It doesn’t make me feel better. _

Rowena smiled brilliantly. “Alright then. Let’s get to it.” She lifted her carpet bag from the floor and retrieved some objects from inside. Standing, she bustled around the room, lighting candles at strategic points. “Anything in here of yours that might have some of your human bits on it? Underwear, perhaps?”

_ Gross, Rowena. _

“Sorry,” she chirped, not looking the least bit sorry. 

_ Cas washed all my laundry, but there should be some on my toothbrush. Or my comb, which is on top of the dresser. _

“The comb it is. Likely where they found some for me the first time. At least now I understand why the scrying crystal kept insisting you were here.” She picked up his comb and examined it closely. “Perfect,” Rowena murmured, plucking a few strands of hair from the teeth. “Little of this,” she said, tossing the hairs into a goblet, “little of that,” some other things were mixed in as well while she chanted in a low guttural voice. “Alright my dear, hold still.” 

Dean held perfectly still while she drew something on his head.  _ Hope this works. I don’t want to be four-legged anymore. _

“Of course it’ll work. I am the best, after all.”

Dean chuckled despite himself. 

“Now,” Rowena said, settling back in the chair. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for the pain. I’ll work as fast as possible, but it’s going to hurt. Are you ready?”

_ As ready as I can be. _

Nodding, Rowena began to chant, her eyes taking on a faint purple glow as she raised her hands, palms facing upward. 

It felt like the air pressure in his room was building at first. Then it felt like a vise being clamped around his head. Dean’s bones started aching like they were being broken one by one and finally the pain became so overwhelming that his vision browned out and he lost all track of time, exactly how it had gone the first time. At least he seemed to lose consciousness faster this round. 

When he came around again, someone’s gentle hand was stroking his head. Someone was whimpering, too, and he realized it was him. 

“Ssh, it’s over. I know you’re still in pain, but it’s over. Open your eyes.”

Obeying, he looked up at Rowena. He meant to ask her if it had worked, but all that came out was “ow.” _ Ow _ . Not meow. He’d spoken. He’d said an actual human word. He was human again! Dean’s face was wet and his vision was blurry, but he was finally human again. 

“I know, dear. But it’s over. You’re almost back to normal. I’m going to make you sleep for a time while the rest of the spell runs its course.”

“Ok,” Dean whispered. Rowena pulled the blankets over his body and raised her hand to start the sleep spell. “Hey, Sam’s got a big crush on you. Too afraid to tell you,” Dean said, voice rough and raspy from disuse. 

Startled, Rowena blurted out, “What?”

“Should talk to him. I approve. I like you.” 

“Oh my,” Rowena murmured, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. 

“Be good together. He wants to--” Dean yawned, “wants to learn witchcraft. No one better to teach him.”

“I suppose I could--I mean--” Rowena seemed to gather herself for a moment. “I’ll talk to him. Rest now,” she said, chanting softly. 

A wave of warmth caressed Dean’s naked skin as he felt his body relax into the memory foam. His last thought as he dropped off was of Cas. 

They had a lot to talk about. 

* * *

Dean woke some time later, stretching comfortably on his memory foam. He turned his head to the side and buried his face in the spare pillow. Taking a deep breath, he got a whiff of the coconut shampoo Cas favored and smiled. Cas had spent the night before laying around in Dean’s bed, petting Dean and listening to the tape. And on that note--

“Achoo!” Dean sneezed, apparently having managed to suck some of his own fur up his nose. “Ugh. That sucks.” He sat up and the sheets fell about his waist. Oh right--he was naked. Wow. That meant Rowena had seen him naked. “At least she got to see one Winchester naked,” he muttered to himself, dragging his still sore body from the bed. 

He dressed quickly in ratty sweats and a ragged Metallica tee. Dean brushed his teeth for the first time in a week, running his tongue over the absolutely delightful slickness once he was done. There was nothing to be done for his hair unless he took a shower and he wasn’t really anxious to do that. What he was anxious to do was talk to Cas. He’d never forget the stunned look on the former angel’s face when he actually listened to that mixtape--and the unsurety that had come with realizing his new cat was Dean, which meant Cas was probably wondering if Dean had been conscious for all of his heartfelt declarations of love. 

Dean opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, surprised at how quiet the bunker seemed, considering Sam, Rowena, and Cas should’ve all been around. 

He found Cas in the library, sitting quietly in one of the cushy arm chairs. He had his hands folded in his lap, and didn’t look the least bit surprised when Dean entered the room. 

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice rough and rusty. 

“Hello Dean,” Cas murmured, staring down at his hands. 

“Where’s Sam and Rowena?”

“Not sure. They had a heated conversation after she’d completed the spell and Sam said they’d be back later. It’s dinner time--perhaps they went to get food.”

“Oh.” Dean’s stomach rumbled. “God, I’m hungry. Not that the food you were making kitty me wasn’t great, but shit, I’d kill for a cheeseburger.”

“You uh...you liked the food I made you?” Cas looked up at Dean, a slightly bashful expression on his face. Fuck, Dean wanted to kiss him so badly.

“It was sure better than that canned shit Sam tried to feed me, although I did actually eat it that one night. I dunno.”

Cas chuckled but his mirth seemed to fade quickly, as he stared back at his hands again. “Do you--do you remember everything? Everything I said or did?”

“Yup. I remember jumping into the toilet, and the pie, destroying my room. I remember what you said. Cas, I was awake for all of that. It was like--I mean, I had four legs but my brain was still mostly human.”

“Oh,” Cas said, his voice small and unsure. Dean knelt at Cas’s feet and pulled one of his hands into his. 

“Hey, c’mon, look at me.” Cas squeezed his eyes shut. “Cas, c’mon. We gotta talk about this.”

“Why?” Cas asked bitterly. “So you can break my heart? Tell me how you love me as a brother, right?”

“Buddy,” Dean chuckled, “Brothers don’t make each other mixtapes like the one I made you. I mean  _ I Want To Know What Love Is _ ? _ Baby I Love Your Way _ ?  _ Is This Love _ ? Cas, that’s not a platonic song mix.”

“But you were so angry--you left and…”

“And I was on my way home when the shit with the witch went down. Cas, I was angry because you could’ve really been hurt. If you’d’ve hit that rock at a slightly different angle, it could’ve killed you and I’m not--” Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I feel bad enough that you’re human, but if you’d died and I’d never told you…” Dean trailed off, uncomfortably aware of the tears trying to escape his eyes. 

“I don’t hold you accountable for my humanity,” Cas said, finally meeting Dean’s eyes again. “I don’t expect you to keep me healthy and well, either. You would’ve died if I hadn’t intervened, Dean. And as I’m sure I’ve told you before, I regret nothing I’ve done in the interest of keeping you and Sam safe. I have a lot to make up for--”

“No you don’t, Cas.”

“But I do,” Cas insisted. “I broke Sam’s wall--”

“And that was years ago,” Dean reminded him. He caught Cas’s other hand in his free one and if Dean had taken a second in his fervor to realize he basically had both of Cas’s hands clutched to his chest while he knelt in front of him, he probably would’ve freaked. “I’ve forgiven you, Sam’s forgiven you. Cas, at some point, you need to forgive yourself and move past this, ok?”

“But--”

Dean leaned up and captured Cas’s mouth in a sweet kiss. Cas made a little noise of surprise but got on board quickly. He pulled his hands from Dean’s and cupped Dean’s face instead, pulling him in closer and taking full control of what had become an incredibly heated, passionate kiss. Dean was panting when they finally separated, and he nearly melted into a puddle of goo when Cas pressed their foreheads together. 

A wave of emotion welled up in Dean, and before he could even think about what he was saying, “Oh god, Cas. Fuck, I love you. I love you so much,” he choked out, aware of the tears streaming down his face. 

Cas kissed him so hard, he tumbled out of the chair, sending Dean sprawling onto his back. They broke apart for a second, breathlessly, just enough time for Dean to catch a glimpse of the fire in Cas’s blue eyes before the former angel was on him again, drowning Dean in his passion and intensity. 

Hips pressed together, Cas let Dean take his entire body weight, and Dean honestly thought he was going to have a heart attack or maybe a stroke, because holy shit--Cas was  _ touching _ him. He lined up their erections and pushed his hips down against Dean’s. It was fast, and dirty, grinding into each other as Dean’s heartbeat skyrocketed. Cas was completely in charge, owning the entire moment. Dean let himself get swept away, let Cas have the reins and use his body however he saw fit. 

“Cas, please,  _ please _ ,” he begged, barely aware of what he was saying, his arousal pushing Dean closer and closer to the breaking point. 

“I’ve got you, Dean. I’ve got you.” Cas sucked in a breath and let it out, breathing the words “I love you,” against Dean’s lips. 

With a choked off sob, Dean came in his pants, groaning through the overstimulation as Cas pumped his hips a few more times to follow him over the edge. He let out a little woosh as Cas flopped over his chest, clearly worn out. 

They lay on the library floor, sweat cooling on skin, both of them trembling a bit as they came down. 

“Now I really need a shower,” Dean muttered. 

Cas chuckled. “Since you can’t lick your balls anymore.”

“Hey! I couldn’t fight those cat instincts, you can’t use that against me!”

“I can and I will. As long as I damn well please.” Cas nuzzled against Dean’s neck. “I was so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry, Cas. I shouldn’t have left like that, you just scared me so bad and I didn’t know how to…” Dean swallowed. “I didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. You and Sammy? Man, you guys are everything, and something happening to either one of you?” Dean blinked, willing the tears back. “I don’t think I could handle it. I need you, Cas--like the flowers need the rain and all that.”

“That was a good song to end that mix with. The angel one was a little weird.”

“Hey, don’t knock Aerosmith. In retrospect, I probably should’ve used  _ Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing _ . Cas, I’ve been wanting to give that tape to you for so long. I’m sorry I was too scared to make a move. I’m an idiot.”

“We’re both idiots.” Cas kissed Dean’s neck. “We could’ve had this years ago, but we just kept missing opportunities.”

“No more missed opportunities, ok? You and me. ‘Til the end of the line, alright?”

“You got it, Captain America.” Cas said. Dean could feel him smiling against his neck. 

“Well, well, well. Look who got my pop culture reference!” Dean ran a hand down Cas’s back while staring up at the library ceiling. “Man. I can’t believe the first time we finally get together, it’s on the damn library floor.”

Cas laughed. “Why don’t we go get a shower? Then maybe our second time can be on that gorgeous memory foam.”

“Fuck yes, Cas.”

Raising his head, Cas smiled down at Dean. “I love you so much, Dean Winchester.”

“I love you too, Cas. More than I got words to say.” Dean’s eyes filled again. “You are one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, I hope you know that.”

“And I hope you know I feel the same. Your presence in my life changed everything, and I will be forever grateful for that.”

“ _ Shit _ ,” Dean whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. Cas leaned in and kissed them away. 

“How about that shower?”

Nodding, Dean let Cas help him to his feet. “I love you,” Dean said again, purely because he could. 

“I love you, too.”

The held hands as they walked to the bathroom. 


	7. Happy Birthday, Cas!

“Nice to see you as a human again,” Sam greeted the next morning. Cas stumbled past on his way to the coffee pot, with his shirt on inside out, half tucked into a pair of Dean’s boxers. “And uh, I guess congratulations are in order?” Before Dean could answer, Rowena swept into the kitchen in a slinky dark green nightgown. Sam flushed bright red. 

“Uh--back at ya there, buddy,” Dean said with a huge grin. 

Cas stopped at the table and set a cup of black coffee in front of Dean. “I’m taking mine back to bed. Join me?”

“In a minute.” Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and kissed it, which was a bit awkward in front of Sam, but totally worth it for the gorgeous smile he got from Cas in return. 

“I’m going to do the same,” Rowena said, running a hand through Sam’s hair. “Give you boys time for a ‘bro-ment’ as Charlie calls it.” She kissed the top of Sam’s head. “Later on, we can go fetch your car from Armond’s. I look forward to seeing him again. It’s been a while.” She swept back out of the room. 

“Yeah, I definitely want my car back.” He sipped his coffee and looked over the rim of his mug at Sam. “Soooooo…?”

“Don’t play dumb. She told me what you said.”

“And?”

Sam flushed and stared at the ground. “And thank you. Because as much as I got on you and Cas about being honest with each other, I wasn’t being honest either. I’ve cared about Rowena for a while--probably since we bonded over the Lucifer thing--but if you hadn’t said something, I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to do it. So there. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Mighty big of me, seeing as how you made me eat nasty ass cat food and shit in a box.”

“Dammit, Dean, I thought you were a cat--”, Sam caught Dean’s eyes. “Oh. You’re just messing with me. Heh. Well, I wasn’t the one constantly licking my balls!”

“You know what, pal? If you could lick your balls you would. All the damn time. You know why? Because it feels _ awesome _ .”

“Ugh, I am scarred for life.” Sam drained his coffee. “Why did you trash your own room though?”

“I dunno. Thought it might clue you guys in. Didn’t work, obviously.” Dean chuckled. “I mean, the scrying crystal was literally pointing right at me and you two still remained oblivious.”

Sam threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Yeah, that was pretty bad.”

They both chuckled and sat in companionable silence. 

“I’m glad you’re back, Dean. And I’m glad things are coming together with Cas. You deserve to be happy.”

“You know what?” Dean smiled. “I am happy. And I totally do deserve it.” He reached across the table and briefly squeezed Sam’s hand. “We both do.” 

“Damn right.”

Dean sipped his coffee. “And by the way, thanks for not getting me neutered.”

* * *

Armond set down his scrying crystal and cursed. Every time he thought he had a bead on Dean’s location, something would happen and the crystal would stop functioning. That was exactly why Armond needed a familiar. His magic needed that extra boost. 

A loud knock on his door made him that much more frustrated. He definitely was not in the mood for visitors and if he found Jehovah's Witnesses on the other side, Armond might just kill them where they stood. 

Flinging the door open, he growled “What?!” only to have his throat grabbed by one angry Sam Winchester. Sam tossed him across the room and stepped inside followed by Castiel, former angel, and a fully-human-again Dean Winchester. 

“‘Sup, he-witch?” Dean asked, glaring down at him. “I swear to Chuck if you fucked up my car, I’m gonna let my little brother here do whatever he wants to you.”

Sam slid a wicked looking rune covered blade from his pocket. “I’ve got some really good ideas,” he said with a smirk. 

“But after,” Castiel intoned, “ _ she’s _ done with you.” 

“She?” Armond’s breath died in his lungs as his heart stuttered and skipped. “Rowena,” he gasped, as the diminutive redhead stepped delicately through his open door. 

“Hello, Armond. Long time, no see,” she quipped. 

“You are uh--looking as beautiful as ever, my dear.”

“Oh no, I’m afraid the time for flattery has passed, Armond, darling. I suppose perhaps you didn’t know the Winchesters are under my protection, but I’m sure you’re realizing that now. Look closely at their auras, Armond.”

All three men had bright, intense auras. Sam’s was a riot of blood red, gold, and swirls of black. Dean’s was gold, emerald green, pure white, and vibrant blue. Castiel’s was more of the same gold, the vibrant blue, blood red, emerald green, and pure white seen in Sam and Dean’s, as well as bright pink, orange, and more--Castiel was a mix of every color imagined, it seemed. And over all of it ran an electric purple--Rowena’s influence--that Armond couldn’t believe he’d missed before. 

“I am so sorry,” he begged, scrambling to fall on his knees at Rowena’s feet. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know! This is why I need a familiar, to heighten and develop my powers!”

“You don’t need a familiar because you’re no witch, Armond. You are low rent psychic at best. You’ll stop practicing immediately, am I clear?”

“Yes, my Queen, I swear it!” 

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance over Rowena’s head.  _ Queen? _ Dean mouthed. 

“And you’ll return Dean’s car to him, and leave town right away, do you understand?”

“Yes, Rowena.”

“I get wind of you attempting magic again,” Rowena leaned down to whisper in his ear, “and what I’ll do to you then will make what I did to you in 1897 look like tea time. Do we have an understanding, Armond?”

“Yes, my Queen. I promise. I’ll be gone by morning. Dean’s car is in the garage and the keys are inside. I’ll leave. I swear it.”

“Wonderful.” Rowena straightened up. “We’re done here,” she told the boys, leaving as elegantly as she arrived, the train of her red gown sweeping out behind her. 

Armond stayed on his knees as he watched them depart, and it was quite a while after he heard the Impala leave his driveway before he moved again. 

“I hear Japan is lovely this time of the year,” he muttered to himself. 

* * *

Dean lay on his belly, pressed into his mattress with Cas’s weight on top of him. He was done. Good and done and had no plans to move any time soon. 

Cas left a trail of kisses down his naked back. “Are you alright?”

“I think you broke me--in the best way possible, though.” 

Cas let out a chuckle and resumed his ministrations, seeming like he was doing his best to kiss every inch of Dean’s spine. “You are incredible, Dean. So perfect and responsive. It’s truly a pleasure to have you in this manner.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s ass, teasing him a bit with his teeth. 

Dean flushed down to the tips of his toes. “Dude, you already got me naked and had your way with me. Stop sweet talking me.”

“I will not. I will sweet talk you all day long if that’s what I desire.” Cas covered Dean’s entire body with his own. He ran a hand up Dean’s side and nibbled gently on his earlobe before whispering in his ear. “I waited ten years for you, and I shall do as I please. You, Dean, are the most beautiful creature in existence and it’s my job to ensure you know that.”

Embarrassing as Cas’s words might be, he knew beyond a shadow a doubt that Cas meant them, and it warmed every last inch of him. Dean’s heart felt so swelled with love, he thought it might burst. He buried his face in his pillow and breathed deep. 

“Ahhh-choo!” Dean sneezed violently. Cas chuckled. “Stop laughing. We’ve washed these sheets five times and I’m still breathing my cat-self in. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s adorable.”

“Is not,” Dean sulked. 

There was a knock at the door. “Hey, if you two are done being gross, there’s dinner and shit,” Charlie yelled through the door. “And you promised me D&D tonight. My Mage Queen is ready to kick your collective asses.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean yelled back. “Out in a minute--or ten!” He flopped onto his back and stared up at Cas. “Hi.” 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas leaned in for the sweetest kiss. 

“I’m so happy,” Dean said with a grin. “This is all better than I ever thought it would be.”

“And it’s just going to keep getting better, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

The got out of bed and cleaned up at the sink in their now shared bedroom. Clothes were pulled from the same drawers since they shared almost everything. Cas did have his own jeans, since his thighs were a little meatier than Dean’s (and damned if that didn’t have him drooling just thinking about it) but tees and jammies typically drifted between them, which is why Dean was wearing Cas’s “Save the Bees!” shirt and Cas was wearing one of Dean’s many threadbare Led Zeppelin shirts. 

They left the bedroom hand in hand, following the happy chatter of voices. Dean’s heart swelled when he saw the library. Sam had delivered, and every surface was crowded with streamers and balloons, with ‘Happy Birthday, Cas!’ painted on a sheet hanging in front of the telescope.

“Surprise, babe,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss Cas. “Happy birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Cas informed him, fixing him with that grumpy-faced-tilted-head look Dean loved so much. 

“Is now, buddy,” Sam grinned. 

Rowena handed him a beer as he entered the library. The bunker was full of his family, with Jack, Charlie, Mom and Bobby, Max and Alicia, Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Patience all gathered to celebrate Cas’s big day. 

“Thanks for coming, everyone. Since Cas doesn’t actually have a birthday, we decided to give him one.”

“Dean and I thought September 18th was fitting, since that’s the day he came into our lives,” Sam explained, wrapping an arm around Rowena. 

“So thanks for coming out for this very special first birthday party,” Dean chuckled. 

“I am several thousand years old,” Cas said petulantly.

“I know, babe. But it’s the first year we’re celebrating it. If anything, it’s your eleventh birthday, since that’s how long we’ve known you.”

“I suppose that’s acceptable.”

“Happy eleventh birthday to Cas!” Dean raised his beer and smiled at Cas while reaching for his hand. “Here’s to Cas, the most badass angel in the garrison and one awesome human. Love you, buddy.”

Everyone cheered and Mary starting singing Happy Birthday. Dean held Cas’s hand and sang along, loving the look of joy on Cas’s face. Claire and Kaia brought out a cake shaped like a giant cheeseburger. It was loaded with candles, almost too many to count.

“That’s a lot of candles,” Cas said, his eyes wide. 

“Yeah, well--just ‘cause Dean said this was a first birthday didn’t mean I forgot how old you are,” Claire snarked. 

“It’s quite a convincing cheeseburger. We almost named you Cheeseburger,” Cas told Dean. 

“When I was a cat?”

“No,  _ Cas _ almost named you Cheeseburger,” Sam interjected. “I voted that down. That’s a weird name for a cat.”

“Zeppelin was a good choice,” Dean said. 

“I liked Cheeseburger,” Cas pouted. 

“Ok, ok. Make a wish babe, and blow out those candles.”

They all cheered while Cas blew them out, and much laughter filled the room as Cas opened gifts. He received new clothes and a few books, a “#1 Dad” shirt from Jack that made him teary eyed, and lovely black trench coat from Claire. 

“What?” she said innocently when he held it up. “I miss the damn thing.”

“Me, too,” Dean admitted. He caught Sam’s eye and they nodded at each other. Sam quietly made his exit from the library. “Sam and I got you a gift from both of us,” Dean told him, tugging Cas towards the couch. “Sit down and close your eyes tight, ok?”

“Alright.” Cas complied, even though he was visibly confused. He sat on the couch and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Sam came back into the room, a blanket-covered bundle in his arms, which he carefully set in Cas’s lap. “Open your eyes, buddy,” Sam said, a huge smile on his face. 

Cas opened his eyes and immediately looked down at his lap. “Oh! Oh my!” He lifted a tiny black and white kitten from the blanket. “He’s so sweet! Is he really mine?”

Gentle laughter filled the room. 

Dean sat down on the couch next to Cas and straightened the kitty’s bright blue bow. “Yeah, Cas, this little guy is all yours. And don’t worry, Sammy’s gonna get a puppy, too. I’m not that unfair.”

“But--your allergies!”

“I got Claritin and Flonase. I’ll be fine.”

“He’s so sweet,” Cas said again, lifting the kitten to his face. The kitty let out a little mew and everyone in the room melted at the look on Cas’s face. “I love him already,” he said happily, cuddling the kitten close.

“What are you going to name him?” Jack asked. 

Cas’s smile outshone the sun. “Cheeseburger!”

-The End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow, what a journey. I've been publishing fanfic for the SPN fandom since fall 2012. I've entered the DCBB every year and finally, this year, in the middle of moving and working and culinary school, I FINALLY FINISHED A DCBB. WOW!!
> 
> Huge thanks to JoJo and Muse for their absolute patience with me and for giving me the last possible posting date.
> 
> To Pandorana, for the gorgeous art! Kitteh!Dean never looked so good!. [Art Post](http://deanwingedchester.tumblr.com/post/180583332171/heres-my-contribution-to-winjennsters-new-fic)
> 
> Thanks to Maxwell Chester, my Mom's adorable Tabby, for providing inspiration and beautifully posed cat pictures. I really wish I could have found a place to put in your cone of shame pics. Arghh. 
> 
> To the betas! LivingintheQuestion, Ailuromatron, but especially MittensMorgul (mittenwraith). Without her help, this probably wouldn't have gotten finished in the first place. 
> 
> And of course, to all of you. I'm never really good at responding to comments, but believe me, I read and squee over each and every one. Over all of these years of writing fandom, you, my readers, remain the absolute best part! <3


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